


Desert Dust and Radio Static

by Candlecoo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crush at First Sight, M/M, Mysteries, Night Vale AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, basically the entire Overwatch cast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:15:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candlecoo/pseuds/Candlecoo
Summary: There is a town in the heart of the desert, where the strange and unusual are called. A place where souls are lured and beaconed into the town...To any unlucky folk who feels drawn to this plot of land do not follow that feeling, if a voice calls you here do not listen and never tell anyone about said voice. If you do, there will be groups that will know and act. Do not try to uncover it’s anomalys. Do not let yourself be drawn in; you will not be able to leave. If you are hearing this this message is directed to you...
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 59
Kudos: 67





	1. The Water Purification Plant

There is a town in the heart of the desert, where the strange and unusual are called. A place where souls are lured and beaconed into the town. Like a moth to a flame or that unbearable six-legged creature to Jack Morrison’s corn fields on the outside of town for reasons unknown. To any unlucky folk who feels drawn to this plot of land do not follow that feeling, if a voice calls you here do not listen and never tell anyone about said voice. If you do, there will be groups that will know and act. Do not try to uncover it’s anomalys. Do not let yourself be drawn in; you will not be able to leave. If you are hearing this this message is directed to you...

This strange static message that had appeared on Hanzo Shimada's van radio one night while he was on a drive. Since moving to the states, he had been restless like he was being pulled somewhere. And nothing made sense Hanzo and his brother Genji had been running around solving problems using science (but also spirits and magic). Or at least they had been until Genji took a solo job and completely disappeared.

Ever since then Hanzo's dragons have been pulling him towards somewhere in the desert. He had been driving for hours before the radio turned itself on to play that message just to fade into static He would not listen to this message. He HAD to continue. He HAD to find Genji wherever he had disappeared. Whatever the strange consciences that lead to this. As Hanzo was nearing the place where Genji and his dragon just stopped existing, the static would die out to a single station. One with the same voice as before. Deep and smooth but with a hint of edge. Its words came in clearly only to fade once more.

"On the southern edge of town there’s a..." Static then again "...while the sand is usually a terrible..." Then after a moment "... Is now glowing a frightening crimson and is burn away the soles of shoes in search of..."

It went on this way for a long time.

Longer than it should’ve...

How strange.

Time continued on like that, long and drawn out like the horizon till it felt like the existence of time was a figment of his imagination. 

He drove until all roads and destinations on the gps disappeared and there was nothing.

There was only the desert.

Then after an indistinguishable amount of time there were the faint outlines of buildings in the distance. Somewhere beneath his skin the dragons echo 'there'. So there Hanzo would go. There he would stay till he found answers. With every minute passing the area around him became more looming. The canyons crowding the town in. The sky too dark even for the late hour.

The radio playing something that really shouldn’t be played on the airwaves.

What was that? The whimpering of some small creature?

It didn’t matter he thought as he switched off the radio. He drove for a long while making plans for when he arrived in this strange town that didn’t have a location on his gps. He would have a long day set out for him.  
\--------

The sun coo's and caws. It has claw’s that tear at our throats and through the blood it brings the Day.  
Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

I’m Joel Morricone, but not really. As you all know community radio hosts must never say their names else the council removes their voice permanently... And wouldn’t that be a shame. We have alt to cover in the Gorge today the water 'purifier' plant that has been producing a gelatinous living goo, the city council’s verdict of the education purge and the citizens accounts of a new stranger that’s appeared in town late last night.

Now let’s get started on the least important news. The council has been reviewing the courses that will be removed to make room for new classes this fall. Geometry, algebra 2, dead poetry, and earth science will no longer be taught in Deadlock schools, they will be replaced with Sacrificial mathematics, blood collection, body disposal and consumption, supernatural avoidance and PE. Yes, I know we'll all miss communing with long dead poets like Edgar Allan Poe or Dolly Parton, but sacrifices must be made. Plus, these new courses look promising. 

Now let’s look at traffic.

Your hands clench the wheel, skin wet and stretched across the bones that make up you. You feel it. You feel a lot of things. The motion of the car beneath you, the ich under your skin, the pressure of the air around you. But you also feel nothing.

Nothing at all, the world is dead.

This has been the traffic.

The town for as long as we can remember has gotten it supply of fresh bottled water from the purification plant on the outskirts of town, but citizens have been reporting getting sent liquids that are not water. All of you listeners can remember the cases of vials of blood and tissue that was sent to our homes a few months back. While the company has apologized for that incident, they have yet to retrieve the vials. Well now dear listeners it seems that the company has sent out another Strange product early this morning it seems to be a gelatinous substance in a glass jar. On occasion the jar will move from side to side for no reason, I’m sending intern Doris to find out more. We'll update you on the situation as it comes in. 

Now the important news. According to Emily and Lena Oxton had encountered a new man in town. From what i hear he has gorgeous serious eyes, cheekbones that can cut glass and perfect black hair with lil silver wings. He is just perfect. They didn’t say this, I did. We should all be glad that this perfect person has stopped in our small town. We do not get graced with this very often and i for one hope that he stays in the Gorge a lil longer. We will most definitely be reporting more and please call in with anymore information.

Now onto the community calendar:

On Wednesday we will be herded into a dark room and deny that the moon exists, for no reason other than it not being in the sky that night. If it existed why wouldn’t it want to watch us all the time?

Thursday is no good, its bad this week. 

Friday is the grand reopening of the Deadlock skate park, after last years incidents of people disappearing midair during sick jumps.

Saturday is a lucky day, go out and try your luck. WE DARE YOU.

Sunday was cancelled. You know what you did to cause this. It was all you.

Monday is dog day on behalf of a vague yet menacing government agency, you are getting a new dog. A REAL dog. NOT a listening device. Just a dog. Enjoy your new friend.

And Tuesday will never happen.

That was the community calendar.

Further update on that strange goo that was sent to all of our homes and businesses, the glass jar has been shaking furiously and has just now fallen off the table smashing the glass on the tile, just as all of yours has as well. The substance is moving sporadically across the tiles wrapping its body around objects in the room. Some it leaves as it found it and others are being completely absorbed into the goo. I have moved myself and the recording equipment to the stations highest surface for safety.

From what I can see all materials made of metal or wood are unscathed, however plastics and paper products are being broken down and destroyed like Moira O'Deorain's medical career. As for flesh that is unknown cause I aint getting anywhere near that thing.

Oh, good intern Doris is back with her reports of what’s exactly is causing this goo to run amuck. Let me just warn her ahead of time about it being on the floor. She doesn’t appear to hear me listeners, Doris don’t come in here. Imagine its like that incident twenty years ago where the floor turned into lava and a large number of citizens legs melted off, the floor is dangerous Doris. Oh no she's not responding. She's opening the studio door. And... She seems to be fin- NOT FINE!

The goo is now climbing up her legs eating away at her flesh muscles and bones. She's flaking away... Doris you haven’t been on that new fad all plastic diet have you? Oh god she nodded, this is horrific, she's being torn apart. I cant watch lets just go to the weather...  
\------

Music played through Hanzo's car radio as he was driving to get the keys to the house he decided to rent this morning. The news around here was... strange. Hanzo was pretty sure this was a joke or a prank broadcast. None of that stuff could possibly be happening.

If it was then he would be far busier than he had foreseen. No this couldn’t be true, he thought as he stopped for a red light. No sooner did he stop did massive globs of unidentifiable clear gelatin roll down main street. It took a few minutes for it all to leave his visibility.

The music continued playing. Another minute went by and it faded out and the news continued...  
\------

During the weather the gelatinous blobs from the water purification plants have all returned from which they came. But not before absorbing copious amounts of paper, plastic, glass, cardboard and one intern.

I’m picking up Doris' tablet now and I see that this was the city councils solution to recyclable waste, it quotes here "if you wont bring your reusable waste to that nice multi purposes plant we so kindly built outside of town, then we'll have to take it from you."

Well there you have it. It was just the newly announced recycling day; we can look forward to it again next week at the same time. And before I forget, to the family and friends of intern Doris, she was an oblivious intern and will be dearly missed.

For all of you settling into bed and a beautiful new citizen pulling into his new home, this is the end of the broadcast. Stay tune for the sounds of the secret police members planting bugs while a man sleeps in a new place for the first time.

Goodnight Deadlock gorge goodnight.  
\-------

That night the strange radio broadcast played in his head as he prepared himself for bed, the abnormalities he had heard and seen that day. The thoughts and questions however slipped from his minds eye as his head hit the pillow. 

It immediately came rushing back with the sounds of hushed mutter and rushed footsteps. The last sentences of the airwaves invaded his thoughts as his fist collided with the jugular of one of the trespassers in his house. And as another cried that they were just doing their job as the drug there coconspirator out of this front door. The bugs and weird machinery they had attempted to leave in his residence was destroyed and discarded shortly after. All the while all Hanzo could think was what a strange town he now found himself in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Todays proverb:  
> When you've done something wrong don't hide, they already know where to find you.  
> Today's weather was "What have they done to you now" by Daniel Knox.


	2. The Playground

The day didn’t really start without a good cup of tea and on particularly unbearable mornings coffee. Aroma alone could kick start his body into action if need be, and if he was to tackle his extensive list of chores before he could set up shop in Deadlock Gorge he would need coffee. One such task was to buy a coffee machine for his new abode.

So that’s how he found himself strolling down to the Slipstream café and diner. The only café recommended throughout town, oddly enough for the lack of baristas. Which was weird.

It had been less than seventy-two hours since he entered this desert community and all though no events to compare to the first have accrued the town grows in its abnormalities the longer, he resides here. In simplest terms it was truly fascinating. Everywhere the man gazed there was something thought-provoking just in sight. Whether it was the flashing baby blue lights flickering in the backroom of the café or the gorilla reading a newspaper with a pair of spectacles resting on his nose, there was always something to question and ponder here. 

Though not many of the residents approached Hanzo, they sat or stood in the distance wary of him.

Which was understandable.

After the long process of the cashier interrogating him on his personality type, both Chinese and western zodiac, and his full name, she predicted what kind of beverage he would particularly enjoy that day and promptly hand said drink over. Hanzo took a seat in one of plush chairs arranged around a vacant table and started to make plans.

Before the Japanese man could begin searching for his brother, he would have to draw connections to what happened to Genji when he was in Deadlock Gorge some months back. Then maybe he’ll discover where he went. He needed trust with the citizens here first, which the seemed rather reluctant to even have him here to begin with. So, he would need a job. Which seemed covered. He could always rent out a space for experiments or he could use his office at home. He could also focus on getting more furniture for his new home.

These thoughts and ideas swirled around his mind like a tornado lifting a house off its foundation, preventing him from focusing on the café, and the world around him. He continued to zone out into his cup of vanilla bean cappuccino and thought, just thought. He would have to start somewhere…  
As he sat in a daze somewhere in the cafe the radio played... \--------

There is a wheel. There is a wheel in the sky, but at least its better than that void we all see at night.

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

Today we are starting the broadcast with some birthday wishes, there are two birthdays in Deadlock today. Lil Leon Norton turns five today and his parents are throwing a party at their house. Children and adults are welcome to come celebrate. I’m sure the whole town will be there Leon, well except for Gerald and Amelie Lacroix. When the invitations were sent out Mrs. Lacroix google searched the address and claimed that the family was to poor for their attendance. How cruel Amelie, how cruel.

That thing. That pulsating horrific thing in the farthest corner of your hall closet. Yes, YOUR hall closet. You’ve been hearing it more often from every area of your home. What is it? The sounds echo through the walls in the late hours of night, its wet, it heaves and demands your thoughts. Its been there for a year now, you have been very aware of it but helpless to do anything about it. Its moving now. Its almost ready for the next stage. Congratulations.

Angela Ziegler is yet again facing claims of being an angel. As you all know angels don’t exist and being one is illegal. Reporters, the secret police and a representative from the city all barged onto her porch this morning assaulting her with questions and claims. She sighed heavily, setting down the coffee she had yet to drink, before addressing the mob. 

“how many times must I say this, just because my name is Angela does not make me an angel.” She clearly announced like a human would, not like an angel who speaks in strange tounges with an understandable sentence sporadically placed.

The reporters scurried towards the steps. Stating things like “reports claim you’re a miracle worker.”, “you never age.” And “isn’t it convenient that your name is Angela? Its obviously a rouse for your angelic activities.”

The crowd spoke over themselves for several long moments before the homeowner disputed the claims.

“I don’t perform miracles, I’m just good at my job.” She countered. “And of course, I don’t age, the city council doesn’t allow me to, no matter what the city of Deadlock needs a doctor. I’m the only doctor.”

She then added that she was the only GOOD doctor at least, under her breath.

Which this station wholly agrees. Sorry O’Deorain, you should expect this, like seriously you can’t replace human hearts with living rabbits. It just doesn’t work like that.

As for the last claim she just bemoaned for the hundredth time and yet again reaffirmed that no being named Angela does not make you an angel. She does not even stand close to eight feet tall, emit a pitch-black aura like the void or have taut skin pulling her eye’s in inhumane angles.

The representative and the secret police all nodded in unison and left. The reporters begrudgingly had to disperse but eyed the doctor on the way out.  
Mayor Elizabeth Ashe made a new announcement today. The city council has opened up Deadlock Gorge’s new Playground. She exclaimed through her high-power megaphone.

CHILDREN, LIVING AND NON-LIVING BEINGS ARE NOT TO ENTER THE PLAYGROUND. I REPEAT DO NOT ENTER THE PLAYGROUND. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT YOU LITTLE SHITS.

Leaning over the podium she hissed this through the mic directly into a reporter’s ear. She proceeded to say that the Playground isn’t a fun place, it just isn’t meant for that.

Well Deadlock I think a Playground will be a lovely addition to the town.

Lets take a look at the traffic.

There are cars on the highway. They move and they are still at the same time. There are no cars on the highway. There no drivers consumed in thought on their commute on the highway. There are no radio’s filling in the silence of the open roads on the highway. No ones on the highway.

There are cars on the highway.

That was traffic.

Does everyone remember that story from a few days ago about the new man in town? I certainly do. Through an anonymous source we discovered his name is Hanzo Shimada, a beautiful name to match his lovely, Lovely hair with the cutest silver tuffs and his cheekbones that could cut diamond.

He went into town today to rent out a building next to Zen's Yoga and Spa. You’ll get SO relaxed at Zen's you’ll forget all of life’s problem. ALL OF THEM.  
When asked what he needed the space for he claimed he solved problems using science and other means, so he needed a place to do that cause after taking measurements his home office, he discovered it was too cramped.

The landlord in a daze from the beauty of his sheepish smile just handed over the keys without asking for blood samples or insurance papers. But can you blame her.

So he’s a scientist, and willing to help with community problems. What a catch.

And now a word from our sponsors.

You’ve done plenty of tasks with your hands. In the past you repaired your family's sinks and rusted pipes. You’ve petted animals and children alike. But more recently you’ve felt it.

You’ve felt a human esophagus collapse beneath your hands. The breath leave the body of another as you wrenched the life out of it with your hands. They are tools, your hands. Next time they won’t be enough.

Ace Hardware.

Mayor Ashe is once again at the special report podium, apparently citizens are confused about who can or can’t enter the Playground. She made it very clear this time. Only hooded figures, nightmarish horror creatures and approved ty officials are the only ones aloud to enter the Playground. Everyone else is to remain out. 

She screeched into the megaphone.

WHY ARE YOU ASKING ABOUT THE PLAYGROUND? YOU’RE NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BET THINKING ABOUT THE PLAYGROUND.

She then began speaking gibberish, howling in a unearthly tone and then threw the megaphone before scampering back into city hall.

Jack Morrison raised concern about those orbs of light floating around his corn fields. He claims that these orbs are watching him and that it makes him and that creature he alleges lives in his field uncomfortable. A representative from city hall says that since it is not hurting anyone that he should just get used to it. Like seriously you should already be used to being watched twenty-four seven. Geez.

Mayor Ashe is back franticly grabbing hold of the podium before the person with the three pm time slot could get a hold of it. Urgently proclaiming to the town not to let any shadow figures into the Playground, you know that unknown and highly dangerous subspecies of hooded figure. Yeah, they’re not allowed into the Playground either. if you see one please run away and alert the sheriffs secret police.

And now the weather…  
\-------

He walked away from town hall that afternoon with a sense of accomplishment. His dragons hummed in agreement just under his skin. Sure, he was wrestled out of the way by a crazed white-haired woman, but he wasn’t going to fight her for after she started foaming from the mouth. It was a safer bet to just let her have her way in case she bites.

After moving equipment into his new office that he got at an unreasonably low price he was asked to further explain what exactly he did for a living and was rushed to the podium on the other side of town.

So, after waiting behind that insane woman for at least fifteen minutes as she ranted about shadows, he was finally allowed to get up to the microphone and discuss science, the paranormal and the unusual. He went on for his forty-five remaining ng minutes in his time slot. But mostly noticed that the crowd was lost in some blissful or confused haze. That was completely fine with Hanzo. 

Now he was driving back to his office as the radio played music into the dead air of his car. Approaching a red light, he took this time to observe the town around him and he realized he was at an intersection that the new playground(?) was on. The one the radio had been going on able all day. He knew it wasn’t actually a playground, whatever was behind those ten-foot-tall concrete walls. Most likely some conspiracy. But he wouldn’t be digging into it since it was unlikely that it would lead to finding answers about his brother. He did however find slight amusement as a police officer in gaudy multicolored leather yelled at a shadow.

Before he knew it, the light changed. The music continued. His car moved further to its destination and soon the weather ended.  
\-------

Welcome back listeners, we are glad to inform that no shadow figures are in the Playground. It was a false alarm and was just a guard’s shadow. But have been warned to keep an eye out for any shadow figures in the future. She disclosed that those walls were there for a reason and surely it is to keep those without access to the Playground out, even shadow figures.

Before the weather one Hanzo Shimada took up the podium at request from the town. He said that Deadlock Gorge was the most abnormal town in all of America, if not the world. He stated that he was here to uncover some mystery’s and to experiment with what is and isn’t known. Most of the town was too distracted with the way his hair drifted in the light breeze and the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke of his career. So they did not notice the intense visages of the men in suits that gave off a vague and menacing aura towards the back. And for this I’m afraid for Hanzo.

Maybe its best not to know what isn’t known…

The administration of the sleep center would like to remind you as you’re heading home for the day, that sleep is an illusion. We don’t actually sleep our minds just don’t perceive being awake and just views the passing of time in a strange mental picture show that has some meaning to us with us actually knowing how.

Stay tuned for the sounds of the world passing you by, the trees growing older and the breeze speaking in some old language lost to time. For the things you seek, to be a whisper on the wind as you sleep.

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge, goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's proverb:  
> Everything in your life up till now is over. The rest of your life starts.... Now.  
> Today's weather was "Bremen" by PigPen Theatre Co.


	3. The Call

There were multiple circumstances in the town of Deadlock Gorge that were simply perplexing to Hanzo Shimada. The many influences of powers competing for supremacy over the citizens, from outside governments, the not so secret, secret police or the strange entity he's heard about that is apparently the city council. He didn’t comprehend how any of these occurrences propelled the community forward, but he could see that it did. To a larger degree he felt insignificant in comparison. It was enlightening in the queerest sense.

Knowledge and information were major key points in the society he found himself in. He could tell since the first night he stayed in town someone attempted to bug his home. According to what he’s been told it was a widely accepted part of life here. 

So, what was a bit of counter surveillance?

As long as he was open about what he was doing, and that it was for science the town members were fine with his interloping  
It wasn’t difficult really. After his announcement at city hall last week the town had excitedly opened up to him. Faces formerly cast in frowns and furrowed brows, now were pleasant smiles and daily greetings. Now a regular at Slipstream Café he would meander into the building be welcomed with a cheery “morning love.” Then they would proceed to morning gossip. The faces in the café now had names and personalities to associate with them. Hanzo now knew the gorilla he had seen his first day was a scientist as well that went by the name Winston Harold, not to be confused with Harold Winston his father. There was also Angela Zeigler who usually was in and out due to her extensive workload at Deadlock’s Resurrect Hospital and Health Center. They often only had enough time to strike up a short conversation while waiting in line, but Hanzo found it entertaining at least.

That morning he was introduced to a man he had never seen before. He was tall in stature, had wild tousled brown locks and a wind worn Stetson. This man was unbelievably handsome. However, Hanzo did not state as much. The other man had taken the seat next to the Shimada before divulging into a conversation unprompted.

“Ya know Deadlock is used to a wide number of strange things happening in these parts.” The stranger started bringing a mug of black coffee to his lips.  
Hanzo hummed in response. “I’ve become aware of such.”

The cowboy eyed him before continuing. “most of us wouldn’t think it out of the ordinary for a stunning man like yourself to act suspiciously, but you shouldn’t be worried about normal people like us.”

“Oh?” he raised his eyebrows in false innocence. “suspicious how?”

A wicked smirk spread across the stranger’s mouth as he motioned his hand loosely in all general directions. “like how you’ve planted bugs in most public areas. Now I’m sure everyone’s grateful you aren’t going so far to watch businesses or homes, but…” his smile dropped into a truly concerned visage. “there is likely to be people who aren’t as thrilled to have you here, just be careful.”

This man’s worry for Hanzo was truly endearing. Hanzo could feel his cheeks tint rouge at the attention. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

both had finished their drinks and it was time for Hanzo to head to his office, but the cowboy parted ways giving the Shimada his name and the number to the community radio station. Stating that everyone had the number in case they see something that needs reporting on the news.

The encounter was unusual but not unwanted. He wouldn’t mind running into this Jesse McCree again.

Hanzo now sat in his office sometime later that morning, reviewing his cameras and going through the data he’s collected so far. There was no evidence of his brother being here yet, but at least he had other mysteries to occupy his mind in the meantime. As he shifted through his work, he heard the daily community radio start their broadcast in the background…  
\------

Many words hurt more than swords, but words don’t pierce the soft flesh of your mortal body like swords can.

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

Listeners, this week we are happy to announce the opening of a new service in town. It is a call station. Apparently you just call the number that was burned into all of our front doors this morning, with a problem be it a power outage, your water heater not working or an annoying neighbor you can no longer stand and they’ll just take care of it right away. They won’t ever call you, but you are more than welcome to call them. 

Or you could call the public service station and wait a few hours, to at most a couple of days for them to fix it like we’ve always done, but it’s nice to have a second option. Down with the monopolies. But not the governments of course, we all know what happened to the last person who tried that.

Though it will take a few more weeks to get the work needed to run the station properly, the city just wanted to celebrate a bit earlier than scheduled.  
The Deadlock Gorge library committee are running a book sale this week to push controversial and radical ideas onto the public. The board stated that they had too many books on ‘the end of the world would be a beepocalypse.’ And ‘the best way to live life is like a bird, go out collect string, twigs and intestine. Build a nest and shit out a few eggs.’ The public should really think about these revolutionary concepts and adapt them as their own. It’s totally not because we need more room in the library, or a way to pay off that luxurious librarian cappuccino lounge they closed down the library last fall to build. A board member messaged to me through Morse code through my nightstand light late last night.

It’s a good thing most books are allowed in Deadlock now, all except ‘how to books’ which will absorb you in its enticement of learning new skills and developing interesting hobbies while the paperbacks absorb your life force. You’ll be so intent on studying the step by step text on how to fold origami or fix computer wiring, that you fail to realize your body becoming withered and frail. The gauntness of your form or the emptiness of your soul. Not until it’s too late. So, come on down and buy a book today.

Now to the Deadlock Gorge children’s science fun fact corner.

Now kids, today we are learning about the theory that the stars do not exist, the moon is a man-made object that looms over us watching and disappearing at will and the sky is fabricated. That it is all a rouse. Tonight, grab a telescope, stand in a clear open field in clear view of the many dangers that lurk in the darkness and try to see the panels that make up the heavens. Find the linework in the domes above and the lightbulbs high above they claim to be stars. Then judge for yourself if this theory is true. We will discuss in more detail next week on the many things you find up there.  
Without further ado… crrrssshhh… We here… shhhhrrrssssh… are…  
\----

Morricone’s voice faded and was replaced with something else. Something worse.

A deep hollow sound comes over the airwaves of the town, a raspy, haunting voice unlike their dear radio host, beckoned to them. It was dead sounding, like the mist in a graveyard chilling your exposed flesh. Or the smell of dried blood absorbed into carpet that could not be seen but the scent lingered. If this sound was not a sound that’s what it’d be.

It was wispy and echoed horribly in your ears long after it stopped producing words. It lingered in the darkness, like a shadow.  
\----

Things are looking… grim… Deadlock.  
Are… you safe?  
Are you absolutely… sure?  
I can see you… in every moment of your pathetic… lives. In your little home in your secure routine you think… cannot be broken. But they can.  
Everything… breaks… with time or… force.  
You… will… break.  
And I will see it… ALL.  
Are… you safe… Deadlock Gorge?  
\-----

it faded like it was never there, but it was. You know it was from the ice that runs through your veins.

Everybody knew it was real, they all felt it too.

They all heard it too…  
\-----

Sorry about that listeners, somehow another voice drowned me out for a moment. But I’m sure it was nothing. I’m sure there’s nothing to fear even if you feel the same unease as I do now. Our new intern Ciaran is now in the sound box to make sure our programing is fine so all should be good from here on out. Hopefully.

Let’s go to the traffic.

A woman drives down a road in a white, dented sedan. She's driven down this particular road every day for the last fifteen years. In her mind she likes to think a road has a personality of its own. That a stretch of pavement can be easygoing and friendly, or it could be leery and skeptical. But that could all depend on how she felt driving down a road. This one has always felt like an old friend, just a good time. Never was it threatening or harsh. It never made her scared to travel down it again and again. It never had.

Until today. Her fingers became slick gripping the wheel, an unease settled over her frame. Dread. It was dreadful, plain and simple. She didn’t know why she felt this way, but she did. The road was the same as always. Same open desert. Same scrubs. Same tumbleweeds drifting by.

But something had changed. Maybe she had? The woman kept driving and soon the feeling was gone. But little did she know the road was gone.

And she was gone too.

All roads are clear the afternoon.

That was the traffic.

Owner of Mystic Frog Records is having a half off sale later this week. He is claiming that the music from his store has positive and enlightening energy, that is lacking in the day to day life, we live in society. If you go into the store looking really down, he promises to give you a record for free. The entire proceeds from the sale will go to a good cause. 

When asked why he was having the sales, since the profit from the store was at an all-time high, he simply replied with. “they don’t care about us man.” then shook his head sadly before staring off in another direction for the next hour. Until he started bobbing his head to a beat only he could hear, and smiling.

He didn’t elaborate on who ‘they’ are, but we all already know.

New scientist and loveliest man in town called in during our… interruption earlier. I’ve been trying to leave it under wraps, we don’t want anyone getting jealous. I promise there were no weekend plans in our discussion… unfortunately.

So Hanzo called to report that he was going over some data and timestamps on some gizmos he set up around the area. And he says there is lost time in some parts of town. There are zones where everything moves faster, or time just doesn’t exist in that particular spot. It seems to fluctuate between a few minutes to multiple hours. He says that if you find yourself in one of these areas, stop by his lab and tell him about the experience.

Times never really worked to be honest. It’s a fickle thing, the motion of the world beneath us. Choosing when and when not to work. Maybe one day we will be able to wrangle it and get it to finally stop doing that.  
\----

…  
Crrrsssshhhh…  
Death… walks among you.  
The… Reckoning draws… near. I’ve seen it…  
I’ve seen… everything. Everything… will be devoured.  
In the darkness of this town I’ve… waited… for a chance… to consume… the darkness consumes. It hungers for blood… for a body it no longer… HAS. It lurks in the shadows… watching… waiting… in hunger. In the darkness…  
I… am Death… and I draw near.  
I have taken too much… but it does not sustain me.  
Your feeble body will never… be enough. I need more.  
You will… break… and you will… disappear.  
I will be the reason…  
You were never… safe… Deadlock Gorge.  
\-----

…  
There is something wrong, dear listeners. We have checked our equipment repeatedly since that first interruption, and there is no malfunction. There is some horrid thing forcing it messages through our airwaves. The station has no idea how to solve this problem. I’ve had Ciaran try everything from changing the frequencies, unplugging the wiring and dumping the offices standard emergency bucket of chlorin on the main frame, but its all failed. This voice is malicious and out for blood. It is unknow what it is, but we know what it wants. It wants blood. 

Do as I say Deadlock. If you are away from your homes, flee back to them as fast as your flimsy appendages can carry you. Go to the place you keep the hundreds of vials of blood that are still resting in your abode. Take them and meticulously pour them into the mandatory sacrificial circle and cry. Beg the void, beg the city council, beg whatever long dead god that will listen to your plea. Beg and hope that this blood will be enough for this being. Beg that your inner liquid won’t be added soon to the circle too.

The sky is darkening. Hurry before it’s too late.

Now before I too run back to my own dwelling, I take you now to the weather…  
\-----

It was not strange enough that there was the discovery of the time lapsing all throughout the town, or that some citizens decided to drop by Hanzo’s lap without having anything to do with said time lapses. Just people wanting to sit and gawk, unbelievable. 

But now there now there was an all-encompassing shadowing engulfing the landscape around everything in sight. Almost everything. His lab was still filled with light and safe from the events outside. Hanzo will continue to collect data until the time runs out.

He has to.

The tempo of the music was frantic and ravenous. His heart matched it’s beat…

Cccccrrrrsshhhh…  
Shhhhh…  
\-----

…  
No… one is gone…  
Not yet…  
But… soon. Be it today… or tomorrow. Death becomes… you.  
THIS IS NOT THE END…  
Death… comes…  
It always does…  
…  
\-----

Welcome back Deadlock Gorge. The blood has soaked up and disappeared before our own eyes. whether it evaporated or was consumed by some unknown creature, we will never know. But it seems the vials were enough, and the blood is still within our own host bodies. We are safe once more Deadlock. Sorry about the spotty broadcast today. Station management has approved my suggestion for intern Ciaran to pick up new equipment, he just left not to long ago. Hopefully next time we’re on air it will only be my voice gracing this sweet town. But for now, stay tuned or the sound of bubbling thick liquid through a smoothie straw.

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge, goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's proverb:  
> Step one: open your mouth  
> Step two: force elements into your lungs  
> Step three: change them forever  
> Step four: expel and repeat  
> This is how you breathe. Don't stop.  
> Today's weather was "Tag Scarves" by Lillian Carmichael.


	4. Valentine's Day

A month had passed into his stay at the town of Deadlock Gorge, and Hanzo had found many things. He had found that there were bubbles of timeless space appearing in sections of the city. In other places all electronics ceased functioning, all except old fashioned radios that would pick up on stations that didn’t exist anywhere else he went. He also discovered that there was an alarming number of strange groups that lurked around the streets at night. Yet he discovered little to nothing on his brother.

In that month Hanzo’s lab had acquired two more scientists, mostly because the only position most scientists could get was teaching at the community college. Most of Deadlock’s scientific community didn’t actually have a degree let alone a masters, but somehow, they were the towns source of facts and logical. Hanzo’s new teammates Mei and Winston both believe it’s because they’ll say whatever they’re paid to and relay it as “facts”. 

Thanks to his new partners he does know for a fact that about five months back Genji had stopped in town for a week asking around for information on a suspicious group. He was mostly met with replies that almost everyone in Deadlock was suspicious in one manner or another. Which Hanzo can now confirm.

He also found that he wasn’t as lonely. Especially since today was a very emotional and people central holiday. Hanzo never liked Valentine’s day, but not to the degree of the people around him. Mei and Winston both had claimed gratitude for having a safe place today. Not that he was going to complain that they wished to spend the time in the lab rather than with their loved ones. It just meant that he had more time for research. Refocusing onto his computer he heard Mei fiddling with the radio on the other side of the room.

It filled the air with static, until the room became alive with a smooth voice and a docile beat.  
\-----------

Everything comes to he who waits, but he who waits, waits a lifetime watching himself come undone. And everything comes too late.

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge

Gentle citizens of Deadlock Gorge, we are continuing our reports and updates on the lasting chaos and the aftermath of Valentine’s day. On west Cactus Corner bouquets of blood red roses burst from the chest’s cavities and eye sockets of multiple residents. These poor, poor citizens were most likely suffered greatly and had just began to feel the greatly repressed affection that lead to choosing a valentine. But is the lesser evil when compared to actually being chosen as someone’s valentine. Emergency workers have been trying to contain that havoc since the early morning hours, with little success. Like most Valentine’s days. Later the focus will be on clean up and recovery, but for now the focus is damage control.

Numerous reports have been called in saying that the Temple Side and Western Gardens have been hit the hardest, having either been demolished with little left to salvage or destroyed completely due to the sheer onslaught of wreckage.

Please stay off the roadways so that rescue workers can get to the scene as fast possible. Remember that the less exposure to a valentine card or gift, the safer you will be.

We will not let this, or any Valentine’s day make us grovel and beg for mercy. We will not succumb to the tragedy which is this day. We will prevail Deadlock, will climb out of the rumble that is this Valentine’s day, we will crawl on the broken and shattered gravel after this day. Till we finally stand, and this day will only be a faint ache in our joints and bones. We will walk once again sore and weary, but proud. We will walk until we stumble and fall into the next terrible Valentines day is upon us again. And so, the cycle repeats.

In other news the owner of cybernetics and prosthetic company, Akande Ogundimu has just announced a new third arm prosthetic. Have you ever wanted an extra even stronger arm? Well now you can have one, for an unreasonably high price. He stated this over hundreds of flyers blocking out all light from my windows late last night. Which I think is inconsiderate planning a product release on today of all days. Like come on Akande, we all know you’re rich and don’t care for the suffering of others, but really pick another day. Honestly the only people who probably want or can afford a third are is you.

Now the station apologizes for this but in earlier shows we leaked out some misinformation. So, we offer up the following corrections to previous reports broadcast on Deadlock Gorge Community Radio.

1\. The lights only appeared above those destined to be abducted by the larger orbs orbiting close to the void.  
2\. No, it is not safe to touch, if you did you are already dead. That was a terrible mistake we’ve made, and we regret it so very much. We’re sorry.  
3\. The culprit is not unknown as we previously thought. It was Jamison Fawkes owner of the Junk yard and scrap heap outside of town. He was not arrested or escaped as we stated before. The sheriff’s secret police just don’t want to waste the time capturing him.  
4\. Day. Not night.

This has been corrections.

More information on the Valentine’s day report.

The Deadlock botanical garden is canceling their all rose, only rose Valentine’s day display do to the fact that the flora is spreading and consuming the floats and shaped bushes into unrecognizable shapes. There are also statements of the flowers producing a noxious gas, but that has yet to be confirmed.  
Its described as “thick and suffocating” by one person passing by the gardens and those inside as “maddening, makes you want to pounce the closest person to you, crawl around them like some large wild cat in heat and rip their face off.” One woman said before dropping on all fours and chasing the reporter in an impassioned frenzy.

The owner of the garden apologized about the delay and stated that they plan on rescheduling the show sometime in the future after they capture a lawn care specialist to rid the site of the extra flowers.

The Deadlock medical board would like to suggest opening up to the people around you. It’s healthy and relieves stress. It you are having trouble getting the feelings out, try using a knife. Everything is easier to open with a knife. Just make the incision, insert your hand where you knife just exited your body, pry open your rib cage and really pull those words out. After the first cut its easy.

This was health tips.

The sites of destruction due to the events of Valentine’s day have largely gone into radio silence, however we do know that all eligible medical personnel have gone to the scenes. Both Angela Zeigler and Moira O’Deorain are helping rescue efforts on location. Even Jean-Baptiste Augustin has come out to help where he can, as some of you can remember Augustin used to be a doctor at Resurrect Hospital before he quit cause he did not enjoy the amount of in fighting that takes up a portion of a doctors career. Now he runs a small travel agency in a small office between Loco Luca’s buffet and the general’s general store. He’s out there as well to help relieve the damage.

And now a word from our sponsor.

A man once again finds himself in a place he did not remember going. He cannot recall what this place is to begin with. That is if he had ever known what this place was called in the first place. He didn’t. He had never been here until recently. He stood in a long hall carved out of rock the shade of long dried blood, it extended in front of him into pitch darkness. It had been like this for a while. 

The only light that shown was green, vaulting off the walls throwing a sickly color onto the world around him. It made him nauseous, but it was the only light he had.

The man continued down the lone path in dead quiet. Only his tentative footsteps reverberated, surrounding him in what seemed like an army of foot falls, but he was alone. He had been alone since he found himself in this plane of existence. 

He didn’t like this plane with its loud silences and the shadows that moved in the green light that incases his form.

He wanted to go home. Did he even have a home? Yes, the man thought, he had a home. His home may not have been a place, but it was his home none the less. He shouldn’t have left. He didn’t want to be here. 

He wanted to go home.

The man kept walking.

That message was brought to you by…. Well it doesn’t say who the sponsor is. All I can see is what looks like every letter crammed into one space. Strange but they already paid for the advertisement so I’m not going to complain.

And now to the weather.  
\--------

Hanzo had been intensely listening to the broadcast. Hanzo was sure that February the 14th was not like this anywhere else in the world. That this out of all the things he’s witnessed has to be a mistake. 

But he was reassured that this was not at all a mistake. That Valentine’s day was a foul day of death and destruction.

While that was intriguing and horrifying, what really caught his attention was that ad. He’d have to look into that ad.

As the music slowly died out, he started planning a visit to the radio station to ask for more information to what that exactly pertained to. He’d also have to find out where the radio station was located…  
\---------

Dear listeners, this Valentine’s day is coming to a close. The sites of devastation have been cleared away, the roads are clear, and the rescue worker are headed back to their dwellings. This foul day has been less retched then the years previous. But it has been retched just the same. I am glad those of you at home are still same and unaffected by todays events. I am glad we have all made it through another Valentine’s day and while most of you head to bed, I wish only good things upon you. 

Stay tuned for a voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you lay in a stated of frozen terror or bliss.

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge, goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's proverb:  
> If there was a stairway to heaven how many steps would it be?  
> Today's weather was "Draggin' me down" by Travis Love Benson ft. Yo! The Moon.


	5. The Sandstorm

Hanzo could feel the air changing in the area, through the dragons and his own senses. It wasn’t the kind of weather that always beckoned him outdoors to embrace the static, thunderous rain. To stand beneath it and be one with it. He hasn’t experienced a thunderstorm since he arrived which made since being that he was in a desert.

The Shimada had never felt anything like this. The air was dry and harsh. The wind seems to invade the outskirts of town with increasing speeds, that move higher and faster with each idle moment. A storm was coming, one unlike any he’s ever witnessed. Most likely a sandstorm or a dust storm, he wasn’t exactly sure what it’s called. 

Hanzo had made sure to call Mei and Winston to make sure they didn’t head into the lab today. With the weather being what it is, he didn’t want his friends going out into a dangerous situation. 

Mei had made a comment that had confused him. “this storm isn’t a natural occurrence. Sandstorms are normal in this region yes, but the readings are off on this one…” she assured him that she’d call him again when she found out how exactly it was abnormal.

Also surprising was that Winston had no idea that there was a storm head their way. Mei was a climatologist, so I made sense that she already knew as well as researched it to some degree, but Winston as well as the rest of the town seemed oblivious. Even though the dust clouds rise higher than the building, people could still be seen outside his window starting their day. The radio has yet to make an announcement on the storm, Hanzo knows this cause he’s taken to turning on the radio as soon as he wakes in the morning and keeping it on until that days broadcast ends. At the moment it was just static, never ending static playing in the distance. In the back of his mind while he tried to focus on why this storm could be different.

Static and white noise surrounding him like wind and sand that would soon be upon him. Until the static was replaced with the beginning tones of the Deadlock Community Radio.  
\------

Remember to load your brain before you shoot a gun off your mouth.

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

Hello sweet listeners, we have been informed by the city council that a sandstorm will be rolling into Deadlock Gorge within the hour. You would think that being a many headed being, would mean that one would have the ability to remember to inform the people of major events that will alter our days, but no, apparently it doesn’t work like that. Or at least that’s what I was told moments ago over the phone. Their multitude of voices echoed in my receiver, “having more brains than you feeble humans does not mean we have the obligation to use them at full capacity at all times. It’s early we have a right to grab a coffee, let our thoughts wander and check our individual social media accounts, before going on business as usual.” They finished with a huff.

The sandstorm is projected to be the largest in the last century, high wind and debris are estimated to cause millions in property damage, and the storm is likely to last far into the afternoon. Stay indoors Deadlock, huddle in your homes and forsake your jobs for the safety of your dwellings. Make sure all windows and doors are closed and locked. As for loved ones make sure that they are all accounted for, that not one has left for the day and for safe measure, bound them up with emergency rope and lock them away too until the storm has passed. Remember that you can never be too prepared, because we are never safe from the unknown, and we know nothing.

Meteorologists made a comment earlier that, “Do we even know what wind and wind pressure is? Like are we absolutely sure? Couldn’t there be a giant being in the sky and the part we see is its enormous eye continuously watching us? If that’s the case, then wouldn’t the wind be its heaving breath assaulting us? Isn’t that interesting?”

When I asked if they had anything to say regarding to weather events taking place today, they stated the following.

“We don’t know. What do we look like people who research the atmosphere, or the climate and weather, or whatnot. No. no we don’t. We’re Meteorologist not whatever those guys are called. Go ask one of them.”

We attempted to get in contact with local climatologist Mei-Ling Zhou, but she has barricaded herself in her home office and isn’t receiving calls from anyone but local heartthrob scientist Hanzo Shimada.

Now aren’t we all jealous about that.

In regards to the sandstorm, take cover, Deadlock Gorge find refuge in any space you can. Pretend that human constructs are strong enough to safeguard you from the deadly force of our planet’s violent temperament, that your souls will not be whisked away by wall collapsing winds. That there is some divine purpose in this purposeless existence.

Even if the worst is to pass, we will be here recording every moment for we are not allowed to stop no matter what. So stay tuned.

In other news, this Friday, if we are all still alive to see this Friday, the elementary school will be hosting its annual science fair. The most anticipated little scientist is Efi Oladele who has built a moving machine I’ve been told is a ROBOT. She calls it Orisa, and has built it to be a mechanical peacekeeper, based on old tactics and plays from local football coach Reinhardt Wilhelm’s glory days. Cause as we all know public safety and defense directly correlates to football. We are all excited to see you win that blue ribbon Efi.

And now the horoscope.

Virgo: you will wake someplace dark, the wall will seem to close in around you, but you will just be in a small space. You will bring your hand to the walls confining you to search for a light switch but will only find dirt. Dirt on all sides of you. You will be buried under dirt. The only thing with you will be a tape recorder and a flashlight with dying batteries. There will be a message for you on the tape recorder accounting the amount of air you have left. You will hope your friends and family find you. They probably won’t.

Libra: there will be a picture of you circulating the internet. You will wish it had never seen the light of day again. Wherever you go you will wonder if the people around you have seen it and are all now judging you. They are. 

Scorpio: your moon is rising, which means your vision will be distorted. Nothing you see will be accurate and it will confuse the people who you ask about your strange illusions.

Sagittarius: you haven’t left your house in over a month, not for food, not for social interactions, not even for that new game release yesterday. We are starting to worry. The stars are concerned and would like to see you again. Maybe go to your mailbox or open your windows at least.

Capricorn: stop being jealous of the things you don’t have, that other people do. Its not good for your health. If you are really that jealous just take what you want already, it’s not that hard.

Aquarius: you’re hot. Not as in attractiveness, as in temperature. You should really do something about that, it is dangerously high. Get yourself some ice cream to cool yourself down. I’m sure you deserve it.

Pieces: that contest you signed up for and really wanted to win does not measure your self-worth. It doesn’t, what does some nasty elder thinks when judging things shouldn’t matter. We think you’re pretty great even when you fail.

Aries: there’s a hole. A. HOLE. It wasn’t there before. It might be better not to think about it. It might go away…

Taurus: keep walking Taurus, don’t look behind you. Not that it would help, it’s too dark out to see anything anyway. Count YOUR footsteps and not the steps of whatever is following you. Nothings there. As long as you believe that you will be fine Taurus. Oh no… you didn’t believe hard enough…

Gemini: other’s will be drawn to you. More specifically by ‘others’ we mean all the things that you do not want to be drawn to you. Spiders. Scorpions. Leeches. Hell hounds. That thing in your neighbor’s closet. Scorpios.

Good luck with that.

Cancer: uuuummmmmmm… I don’t think I wanna read this. I am so sorry Cancer…

Leo: you seem lonely Leo, who left you? Where have they gone? Why did they leave?

The sandstorm has finally hit the edge of town. We have been getting calls and emails from the citizens who live that far out. Jack Morrison, you know the farmer called to inform us of what the sandstorm is like. He was standing in the middle of his field when he called, according to him the sand and winds were moving at what would seem to be a punishing speed. However, he stated that he could barely feel it and what should have been a skin tearing sensation, was pleasant and somewhat soothing. Like he was experiencing an embrace from a long-lost friend or a lover he has yet to meet.

He recounted memories he no longer remembered or weren’t yet cataloged in this mind. Of long days holding hands in the golden sunrise. Of raising animals and families and watching the corn harvest grow. When these images left Jack, he for some reason felt incredibly alone, like he had lost something he never knew he had or had lost.

He fell to the dusty desert earth, looking up to the sand covered sky and cried. After a unknown amount of time his sobbing ceased and the air around him seemed to hiss until Jack started to mutter to himself, “It can’t be you… you’re gone… you don’t exist… how… how...” he then started sobbing profusely and the phone cut out.

That was something. Thank you, Jack, for your… helpful information. We’ll remember this going on today.

The sandstorm is steadily progressing through town. The sound of the storm is like the battering of a massive beast beating the world around it, causing damage to the buildings around it. It hisses and howls outside and we know that the storm has just begun.

And now, traffic.

All the cars on the roads have stopped. The drivers no longer felt the need to drive. They hear the weather conditions outside and they all know they should be rushing home or to some form of safety. But they don’t. They sit in their cars reliving the best parts of their lives. Before things changed, back before that significant other or parental figure left them forever. Before their childhood dog ran away with a rough crowd of coyotes and died a wanted dog. Before their family cat bit the wrong person with it's toxic fangs and had to be put down. They just sat there reliving these moments.

Until outside the car they heard it. The voices in their mind coming out from beyond those metal doors. The voices of all those they lost beckoning them to open those doors and follow them deeper into the storm. Some of them just sobbed and sobbed. 

There are those who left their cars. Those cars will not move again…

That was the traffic.

I am concerned Deadlock Gorge. Even through the multiple soundproof walls of the radio station and the wails of the station management. I can hear the storm outside, I can more importantly hear voices beyond my booth. The voice of my father who disappeared some years back, which is impossible. Cause he was most likely kidnapped and hauled off to deep with the gorge where they keep all off our missing relatives. Probably. So that can not be him out there. No matter how much I wish to check to make sure I can’t. I’m legally obliged to continue recording.

I asked intern Carian if he heard any voices of long lost loved ones beyond the station and he said no. And proudly stated that he never lost anyone before and then happily returned to sorting the paperwork that had been piling up. 

Well good for you Carian, but not everyone is that fortunate.

And now a word from our sponsors.

There was a boy among the wreckage of a massive fire. It burned the beams of the great hall that had a staircase that wrapped around the building. The library was massive and the tunnels underneath winding. The old oak tree that had lived beside his family for centuries was now scared from the heat that cascaded off the home.

The boy had seen it all. The home collapsed around his feet. Missing him by inches. By chance. By fate. 

He was the only one left. The family he believes he loved crumpled under stone and lavish furnishings. Only he remained. No books with its many yet to read words or pictures with its framed forgotten memories remained. Only him. 

Walmart.

Citizen’s I urge you not to follow these voices and false memories, we do not know what happens once you venture into that great red storm. DO NOT GO DEADLOCK. The mayor has just now proclaimed that we are in a state of emergency. The sandstorm has gotten so condensed that citizens report that they can no longer see their appendages in front of their faces. If you are outside no matter the reason, RETURN HOME IMMEDIATELY BEFORE YOU TOO ARE CLAIMED BY THE SIREN CALLS OF THIS STORM.

Even with this warning a number of people have been summoned out of safety into the clouds of dust and sand. At the radio station and throughout the heart of the town the storm grows louder. The voices more hypnotic and luring, but underneath those sweet voices dear listeners, is the thunderous falls of gigantic multiple feet. Beyond that is the gnashing of too many teeth. Beyond that still is a dying starving moan.

I am worried Deadlock, stay safe. Cover your eyes, plug your eyes, huddle in a corner and hope that that protects you.  
While I take you to the weather…  
\--------

Hanzo had been pacing his living room for a while. Restless. A whisper gradually growing louder in the back of his mind. He was used to the voices of his spirit dragons informing him of details he missed or giving opinions. This was different though; the voices were familiar but in a distant past kind of way. It started as his mother singing in the gardens in his childhood. Then progressed to the stories relayed to him in his father’s smooth tones. But now… he could hear his brother behind the front door as if somewhere elsewhere Genji was calling for him.

But he wasn’t. whatever was out there is not Genji. The dragons had confirmed that, but something was so convincing about that voice. How accurate it is.  
Mei had called back a few minutes’ prior saying that there was a solid moving mass in the middle of the storm, like nothing she had ever seen before. That this wasn’t a natural weather pattern at all. That someone or something was creating it. It was an anomaly.

If something was making this storm, then whatever it was also created the strange sounds everyone had been hearing since the storm began. It somehow had access to what these voices sounded like and a way to produce them. Hanzo wanted, no, needed to find out how. As the beginning notes of the weather section commenced Hanzo pulled on his quiver and slung the bow over his shoulder as he trekked out the front door.

The sand was blinding, the world an orange, red blur of thought and misconception. The familiar streets and intersections faded from existence, like they were never there to begin with. The dragons guided him to his objective. Pulling him towards the thing behind the ringing in his ears. 

He doesn’t know how long he walked for. Hours. Minutes. Seconds. It didn’t matter his feet and his spirit guardians shepherded him deeper and deeper into the storm. The sand beating against his exposed flesh. The wind lifting his hair. but he moved further along his unseen path.

Until in the clouds of dust he saw it. His eyes could make out the figure of… something in the storm. Massive in size towering over him. Louder than his mind could possibly perceive. Many tones overlapping each other fighting for dominance, yet all clear as a chime in the morning breeze. Most he did not understand those he did were merely thoughts and past images to him now. Some long-ago truth that he once held onto so gravely, but he no longer did so.

The closer he approached the clearer his vision, the more sun that shined through the sand above him. He couldn’t take in the whole being but the descriptive details a little more precise now. It was eating. Of that he was sure. The sound of many scraping teeth and the slosh of liquid, he would assume was blood, made this very obvious. It had hundreds if not thousands of teeth, so many it would be impossible to count in one lifetime. All mismatching. Most likely harvested from unknown numbers of victims. It was larger than any building but was dwarfed but the soaring canyon faces. Its body wrinkled and swayed in a patchwork of skin tones like a poorly sown dress. Inhuman mouths were carved out of those folds, and from it an accumulation of fangs tor the surface. The skin seemed to fray and decay around its own long body. Its impossibly long body that faded from existence further into the storm. Where did it end? Appendages shot out like tumors, some definite in shape reaching high above its body with joints that bent at strange angles.  
The earth beneath it was wet and red.

Hanzo could not look away. His mind reeling at the half sight he was glimpsing upon. He had never seen anything like it. The phantoms and demons of his home were shadowed by this beast. The monsters he hunted with Genji I the states were house pets in comparison. What is that thing?

He could feel the sensation of the dragons manifesting onto the physical plane. The minor electric shocks that ran through is arm.

“It is a long dead god.” One serpentine guardian told.

The other curled around his neck as it spoke, “it does not remember, all wisdom has fled it in its age.” Its voice like the wind. “it does not hold the answers you seek young master.”

He was not powerful enough to cleanse a god with the dragons…

The first one spoke again. “this is all it is now, and it wants with a hunger.”

He eyed the creature as it gorged on the remains of some poor soul. He may not be able to kill it, but he was sure he could drive it away.  
A smirk spread across his face as he rose his bow in a deadly manner. His voice confidant. “then I shall give it what it deserves…”  
\-------

The sandstorm has passed Deadlock, as all things must. The sun is no longer blocked by the desert storm and shines down on us once again, at least for a few more hours. The sandstorm moved faster than we predicted, so we will get a sunset today, a deafening, distracting one may it be, but a sunset none the less. 

We are a town of fewer than we started out as. Those who had lost too much to go on, those who wandered into the storm are all crimson stains on the distant desert dirt. Those like the widowed Mrs. Harrison or old geezer Donnie, never to be seen again.

But there were those who returned from the dust bowl, ones like Jack Morrison the farmer who was welcomed back by that thing that lives in his cornfield, or darling Hanzo Shimada, who went out for unknown reasons and came back with a happier air about him. No, not happiness. Confidence.

This storm has changed us Deadlock Gorge, it reminded us of what we no longer have but gave us something new. A better understanding of those we have now. A new foundation of strength to move forward on. Its different for each of us. But we collectively have changed Deadlock.

I will leave you with that.

Stay tuned to the sound of beautiful husky humming as a man walks back home through the vastness of the desert, a smile on his face. Humming to himself after a job well done.

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge, goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Todays proverb:  
> If you do not understand something try poking it. Poke it until it reveals its answers. Or bleeds out onto your floor, either way you'll know something you didn't before...  
> Today's weather was "Pyramid" by Jason Webley


	6. The Living Blackout

Hanzo could still feel the stray particles of sand even days after the storm and that horrible creature that brought it, had passed. Nobody seemed to make the connection that the situation had been caused by the supernatural and not by a natural disaster.

But that was often the case with his line of work. Most people focused on his achievements in the ordinary scientific fields but by passed the work he enjoyed most, cryptozoology.

The last few days had however been exhausting, after the storm a heatwave had settled over the town. Which while not malicious, it was not appreciated by the Shimada. 

He wasn’t the only one either, with the climate seemingly against them the entire community was feeling the effects. Well, except for the people who dwelled in the now abandoned mines and tunnels carved into the deep stone of the canyons miles out of town. 

Most buildings in Deadlock weren’t helping the conditions. The power in the houses and workplaces sputtered and gasped on their last legs of energy output. The air no longer flowed and was stagnant. Some had already caved into an interminable darkness, the windows empty and even if they weren’t you wouldn’t be able to see through them anyway. 

If Hanzo’s prediction was right the whole town would be experiencing a blackout or power outage of some sort. Which rolled out the option of listening to the radio. Not that he would able to force himself to stay awake for it anyway. Over the last few days his own energy was slowly depleted, the best course of action for him would be to rest up and sleep the day away. In the unlikely event that some catastrophic event were to take place the dragons would be alert.

Hanzo turned on the radio on his way to his bed. It was a good idea to have it play as long as he could. Stripping out of any unnecessary clothing he laid himself on top of the covers and felt himself drift away as the broadcast began to play the beginning notes.

\-------

  
I’m not telling you it's going to be easy. It won't, it'll take a lot of effort to rip the frail, fleshy surface from your bones. Even more so for it to dig deeper to consume the essence of your being and feast upon the thing you once not so long ago were. But you experiencing fear, that, that will be easy.

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge

Dearest listeners the city council and public services would like to apologize about the issues you may be experiencing with your electricity, water and air conditioning. They are stating that an unplanned blackout may happen today within the next few minutes to hours. They state that no this wasn’t a scheduled event and they would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t claim it was. They are just as inconvenienced by this as you are. They will be hard at work to correct this issue, for as you can assume this heat does not make their withering tangled form any more comfortable.

Us here at the community radio station are experiencing difficulty. The lights are flickering erratically, more so than usual. Which I assume means its not being caused by the occasional violent angered screeches coming from station managements office, or the repeated, rhythmic beating on the walls they make with their many tendrils in a way that I believe is a method to communicate. I have sent out intern Ciaran to checkout our power boxes to see if they are the base of this issue or if it too is part of the community wide problem. I will report back on that when he returns from navigating the various viper pits, poison darts and piles of broken cursed artifacts we clutter into the same room as the box.

In other news miss Liao is in the middle of working on more robotics projects, in hopes to build something called artificial intelligence. She believes that the most advanced technology could help progress human civilization. Miss Mina Liao has started a fundraiser to help fund this pet project of hers. “Robots are just like people, just more cleanly and with less flesh.”

The link to the fundraiser is up on the stations webpage for those who are interested.

Football season is just around the corner and the tryouts that were scheduled for today have been postponed to this Saturday. Coach Wilhelm apologizes for the delay, but without the power to function the new equipment it’ll be impossible to determine who will most likely survive what the season will entail. Football is a dangerous sport, remember years ago when running back Henry Hawthorne lost his entire right side in the play off game with the 66 69ers. Thankfully the season after tendrils of black, unknown origins grew in the place of his missing limbs.

But even with that happy ending, it does not change the fact that football is not for the faint of heart. Unless you die and become a ghost. We could really use a ghost player on the team.

Let’s take a look at the community calendar.

Wednesday, bright lights will appear above our homes. For some it will be in the middle of the morning while we lazily start our day by scrubbing our bodies down till we feel clean. Or can’t feel in general. Some at high noon while enjoying their daily slice of pie and cup of coffee. And others in the late evening while going through our nightly ritual of making ourselves believe we are safe enough to sleep. But no when we are visited, we will all hear the disembodied voices chanting THIS IS NOT THE ONE. NOT THE ONE. Before passing on. One lucky person will be the one. And I look forward to seeing who it’ll be.

Thursday you will wake up with a sense of unease. A looming feeling that will follow you for the rest of the day. Dread and nervous energy will stalk you like a hungry creature; however, it will never pounce. The question of what caused that dread will haunt you for years to come.

Friday is uneventful… uh huh. Seems pretty boring actually. Nothing to report on Friday.

On Saturday the Slipstream Café will be having a mystery beverage night. As soon as you walk through the door you will be handed a drink of unknown flavor, you can’t return it. You must drink it. Who knows what that drink contains? Maybe the mixture of liquids that go down the drain every day. Maybe the elixir of life, though I doubt that it’ll do any of us any good. Like who actually ages anymore.

Sunday the Deadlock Community College is hosting our kid’s science corner. I hope all the kids stop by.

Monday is void.

And Tuesday will leave a lot to be desired. At the end of the day, you’ll sigh and bemoan to yourself that the day was majorly disappointing. Wishing you had did something when you had the chance.

That was the community calendar.

Well everyone, yes, we understand that today is a bit… abnormal. But you don’t need to all call in cause the walls are precipitating. A lil condensation is nothing new in this town. Sure, its usually on the animals or people and on one occasion one of the hooded figures panting in an alley. And NOT on the buildings. But we live in a desert climate, it’s bound to happen.

So, stop calling in every time a droplet appears.

We've noticed it happening here at the station too. The walls in the broadcasting studio has streams of condensation running down its surface. Not to mention the wheezing gusts of air that seems to be escaping from somewhere. Like air leaving the body of a suffocating beast.

No news yet from city council or public services.

Still no sign of Ciaran.

Like how hard can it be to check the power? It’s literally just a quick trip a few halls down passed the office lounge. He couldn’t have gotten lost cause I know for a fact that he knows the way to the lounge. If I asked him to fetch something from the records room or to run down to that retched, horrifying basement, then I might understand his absence. But I didn’t request him to go to either of those places. I told him to check the power box, that is literally a few halls away. Ugh, this is the one problem I have with Ciaran, he just meanders about not caring about being timely about anything even when we have a show in the progress. But he sure makes good coffee

One of the only people who aren’t feeling the effects of the power outage is local native American and park ranger Julian Le Blanc. As you all know he’s not the only native American, but he sure is local. I digress, Julian has been outside all day, wandering around. He’s been out in the desert, in the local parks and even outside the entrance of the Playground. Speaking to anyone who’ll stop to listen. The man usually goes on and on about how there’s something wrong with the desert. That the winds speak to harshly to him. That the coyote’s sit and stare for far too long to be anything but unnatural. That something evil lurks in its vastness. And sometimes he’s right, like that time months back when the sand was burning away the flesh of our feet with a hunger. But today he’s saying “it’s safer outside, I’d rather be out here than in any house today. It’s not safe anywhere anymore. But it’s safer out here.” He muttered these words to miss Ana Amari while she was pulling plant life out of the earth and burring cloth wrapped objects in the soil she had just disturbed. He mumbled this to young Hana Song and her family as they enjoyed a morning stroll. And whispered this into the ear of a hooded figure as it hurriedly tried to scuttle back to the nine-inch-thick gates that are the entrance to the Playground. But he’s not the only one refusing to go inside. Julian’s girlfriend and her son have taken to avoiding the buildings and are having a pleasant day at the park.  
I don’t know what makes a power outage so dangerous in his opinion, but I think its fine. Uncomfortable, certainly. But dangerous? No way.

Now a word from our sponsors.

Have you ever wanted something so desperately that you’ll do anything to have? You have. You’ve done terrible things to achieve it. To this day your hands shake and your voice quivers from the memory of the acts you committed. Right now, you feel your lungs trap in your breath at our mention of these deeds. You thought that all the evidence of your transgressions was buried in a grave of massive depth. You were so nervous of it being to shallow, so nervous that someone would stumble upon it, you just kept digging and digging. We know. We know that night you fumbled with your shovel a total of six times due to the combination of sweat, grime and blood coating your hands. We know that after you returned home early the next morning you turned to that thing, and you couldn’t remember why you needed it so terribly. We know you didn’t want it anymore. We know you were ashamed. But you couldn’t just get rid of it, not after all the heinous acts you’ve done to obtain this thing you once desired so greatly. So, you hid it away where you thought no one would think to look. For awhile you felt safe in the knowledge that it was discreetly hidden away. We know. But we also know that you haven’t check it in a while.You just trusted that it would forever remain there. The one reminder and damning evidence of your sins. That some wouldn’t go into your house and take it. But we did.

You can have it back. For a price. Just search up your name and find the listing. Purchase it back if you don’t want the world to know what you did. We’ll even throw in on day shipping. How generous of us.

Hurry.

Amazon.  
Okay I can see why everyone is a bit frantic. During the break while waiting for our intern to return I was hyper focusing on the walls of the studio room and not only has the dipping developed into steady streams down the walls but now… they look disturbingly malleable. Like muscles. If you pay close attention they flex and contract, moving like a leg that’s fallen asleep. Short bursts of movement trying to bring life back to the limb. But that’s impossible. Its just a wall. Its. Just. A. Wall. 

Anyway, Mako Rutledge and Jamison Fawkes are asking for anyone to come on down to donate any unused scrap you have laying around. That lamb you got as a wedding gift but have never used, scrap. The old phones that have long gone been out of date and now just sit in a kitchen cabinet, scrap. That body you carry around but never actually do anything with, scrap. You are scrap. Bring yourself down to the junkyard.

We still do not have word from the public services, other community departments are still in full operation. The sanitation department is one such service. In statement they stated, “the sanitation department never shuts done or fails to work. We always pick up the waste, even when it leaks unknown toxic substances, when it reeks of death and lavender, and especially when it violently moves and thrashes in its containment. We always work. So, remember that when voting for the most accomplished community department. We would really appreciate that gift card to trench, Deadlock Gorges hottest restaurant.”

Oh, thank goodness, Ciaran is hurrying down the hall. I can see him through the glass fumbling and waving some files in his hand. He is now swinging the door open. He is panting. What is it Ciaran? What did you find that took you so long? Okay he is stumbling over to me, still out of breath. And… oh no he tripped. Are you alright? He nods as he leans against the walls. Oh. Oh god. The walls are folding around him. For lack of better words, the walls are swallowing him alive. His screams are muffle against its surface, his words illegible as he stares into my eyes as I can see his hazel orbs go vacant and his voice dies out as I lose sight of him. 

There is a loud crunching noise that rattles the desks and file cabinets around it. The crunching bones and future aspirations that once made up a good young man by the name of Ciaran Doyer. If you can’t hear it, the awful sound is dying out and the walls flattening now. It is rippling then smoothing out. With that intern Ciaran is gone. To the family and friends of intern Ciaran, we here at the community radio station are so very sorry for your loss.

I was wrong. The walls aren’t back to normal, they are shaking brutally. It feels like any moment the room could begin cascading down on me. It’s almost seems like it is organic, like a ribcage moving with rapid breaths of something no longer longed for this world. Ceasing it’s coherent form, any distant reminder that this was once a wall, once my beloved radio station is gone now. It is breaking itself down in a panicked state.

The battering of a life. The heartbeat of something, where there should not be one. A tell-tale heart everywhere and seemingly nowhere all at once.

I can feel it. It feels desperate for life and will cling to anything for life support. Ciaran, poor Ciaran wasn’t enough to sustain it. Darling listeners don’t approach your walls, I fear escape will soon be impossible. I-we need to get out. We need to run through our front doors while we still can. Walk out into the outer world breath fresh air. Follow the Ranger Le Blanc’s advice avoid the stores and residences if you still can. 

Run. 

I d-don’t wish to leave you dearest listeners, but I too must go. I can’t stay… neither can you.

So I hope that we will see each other again, but for now I take you to the weather. 

\----

  
As soon as the weather started Jesse made a bee line towards the studio door. Frantic as he witnessed the walls jolt and convulse in what seemed to be its dying moments.

Searching for something to keep it going, something to feed the fires of life that burned within it. That substance was Jesse. With Ciaran already consumed and station management having most likely buried themselves at a safe depth within the earth, Jesse was the last living thing here.

The door seemed a mile away when in reality he knew it was less than a meter, but to his brain he could not be there fast enough. He tried not to pay attention to the pulsating of the constructions around him. He tried not to notice the array of papers and dark stains on the formally pristine tiling. He tried to not let his mind wander on the dreadful what if’s that plagued him in the few seconds it took to haste to the slight safety of the door. He tried and failed. 

He noticed all of it and thought of every horrible possibility as he gripped the handle turning in with inhuman strength born from adrenaline and fear. He felt his clammy palm slick across the metal as he bolted into the hallway. If he looked back, he was sure he would see the throbbing flesh of the walls lurch after him. But he didn’t dare even glance. He didn’t need to he could hear it.

The movements of his workplace surrounded him. He didn’t need to look back to see the changes it was undertaking. From the corners of his eyes he witnessed the once ash grey surface bulge and morph into a pink veiny tissue. It ran parallel to him as he sped down the corridor, he desperately tried to outrun it. But even with his long legs he knew to would be no use in the long run. The hallway too narrow to truly be safe, he had to make it to the nearest room if he couldn’t make it to the front door. Which he couldn’t, he knew he’d never make it.

To assure some form of safety he threw himself into the closest entrée way, slamming the door closed. Standing in the middle of the stations men’s bathroom he felt the rapid beating in his chest and attempted to slow his breathing. It was difficult to remain calm with his body matching the tempo of the space around him. The hysterical change to the once normal entrance pairing his disheveled state.   
It started as a faint spiderweb pattern repeating itself as it spread throughout the surface. It morphed slowly, or maybe he only perceived it as slow. As if in his panic the world around him slowed to a molasses pace. But he could not take in the sight of the tile transform to an organic rosy mass, splatted with bursts of crimson, taking over the entirety of the surroundings. 

Like an animal backed into a corner he took measured steps backwards till his back bumped into a stall. It creaked boisterously as he stepped inside. As he closed the stall, he perceived that the walls were making intense juddering movements closing in on him. The lights in the men’s room shuddered and flickered in protest. His limbs shook and clung to him in a desperate attempt to ground himself. His eyes stared at the mold green of the stall that had the same webbing as the constructed flesh encasing him, but he saw nothing.

He no longer understood the inner workings of his own mind. The thoughts he once found himself lost in, were now gibberish to Jesse. He was no longer Jesse; he wasn’t anything anymore.

He was just part of the event. Something larger, something beyond himself. His heartbeats furious tempo to the same rhythm as the structure of this being. His lungs breathed with it. He felt what it felt without knowing what he was feeling. It terrified him.

His eyes swelled.

His lungs gasped.

His heart faltered 

And with one final hiss the lights, and the world blacked out.

The next time he perceived thought. He was in a tunnel, rosy and crimson and familiar but without context. It extended as far as he could see. The sense of dread without forethought. The misconception of being alone while knowing he was far from being alone. 

The tunnel was eerie with its minor twitching and its shadows like long dried blood. With the breathing motions of the pockets of space in the tunnels surface, opening and closing. Jesse knew that if he entered the wrong one, he might not return from it.

The pockets expanded further the closer he approached them, beckoning him to journey through its depths. Something in the back of Jesse’s mind warned him not to heed its call and to continue down the tunnel. So, he did. In his many years of journalism, he had learned to listen to his gut feeling, or in this case his brain.

He didn’t know how long he traveled down the tunnel. The distance was drowned out by the deafening squishing of the pockets and his feet making contact with the ground. Jesse understood that time had passed since he first awoke here, but it didn’t register with him.

His mind wandered as he was carried forward. He thought of what he did know so he could single out what he didn’t. He knew his name was Jesse McCree. He knew he was a journalist and was destined to always be the host of the Deadlock Gorge community radio broadcast, had been since his name was burned into the job title in the hall of records when he was a young boy. He knew that when he was on air, he was Joel Morricone, mostly so he could keep creative freedom and not worry about repercussions from the city council. He knew that he was fond of the town he resided in and was uneasy in the place he now found himself in. He knew that he was well liked by his fellow citizens. He knew that most of the town were wandering these tunnels too. And Jesse knew he was afraid.

On the contrary Jesse didn’t know what todays broadcast entailed except that there was a black out. Jesse didn’t know how him, and the rest of Deadlock ended up here. Jesse didn’t know where here was. Jesse didn’t know why only some of the town was here and others weren’t. Jesse didn’t know where these tunnels lead or how to escape. And Jesse didn’t know why he was so afraid.  
Whether he found the answers down this path he was unsure, however he felt that something was at the end of it. It was yet again a gut feeling but it had never led him astray before. 

It was certain the further he walked. The tunnel itself proved it, the flesh like walls glistened with a green hue the further he went. It cascaded around him like a waterfall of light.

He focused on it, refusing to let his mind wander to the ever-demanding pockets of space on all sides. It was just the light that he allowed to summon him onward.

Otherwise he felt he would lose himself either to this unrelenting plane of existence. Jesse now found himself in or to the darkest recesses of his being. 

It wasn’t long after the light appeared that he saw a silhouette in the distance illuminated by the light if not the source of it. If he was correct it was a man, he was sure he was shorter in stature than Jesse and was very green. If that was an illusion from the light the journalist couldn’t tell.

The journalist tried calling out to the man as is customary Deadlock fashion. Cupping both hands around his mouth and yelling “WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” which seemed very appropriate considering the situation.

The man jumped and seemed to close in on himself but otherwise did not respond. The walls however fluctuated with the reverberations of his voice. He called over and over which was also a Deadlock custom. Adding in, “YES YOU” and “HEY I'M TALKING TO YOU”. Until the man turned around with a look of shock and underlying fear. 

He froze in place muttering to himself, the light dimed, and the only movement was the pulsing of the walls. It was a leisurely pace now that McCree had stopped shouting. The man gradually turned to face him. Breathing out, “oh, you are real…” his face still lingered in a distant fear but his shoulders slumped.

Curious about the reply he responded, “of course I’m real. Why wouldn’ I be?” his feet taking him closer to the stranger.

The man pondered this for a moment. Within that moment a dozen emotions played out on his face, joy, confusion, fear, something that could’ve been anger but it was gone too fast to actually read. His hands twitched between reaching out to Jesse and gripping his forearms protectively. His shoulders were still slumped but now came off as dejected. “it’s just I’ve been here for a while now and haven’t seen or heard anyone who was actually there.” The strangers face pinched. “this is all very strange.”

Jesse felt bad that he had cause the man any unnecessary terror and tried to clear up the tension between them.

“well there’s four possibilities either you’re real and I’m not, I’m real and you’re not, both of us are real or neither of us are.” Jesse patted his hand over his heart confidently. “and I’m sure I’m real.”

The strangers thumbs rubbed small circles in his biceps, laughing nervously. “that makes two of us.”

The Journalist smiled relieved to see he made the man laugh and that his reassurance was well received. “well I’m glad to hear that partner.” His inquisitive nature longed for him to ask more questions of the man, but he knew that they should probably keep walking. Bad things would likely occur if they stopped. So hooking his thumbs into his belt loops he kept walking. His companion got the hint and followed after.

It wasn’t till they journeyed for a good few minutes before he picked up his light interrogation where it left off. “Sooo how long you've been here, if you don’t mind m' askin'?”

The muscles in his shoulders and arms tensed briefly, “I suppose I don’t mind but…” His face contorted in frustration. “I don’t remember. It’s been a long time though, last, I recall it was the beginning of autumn and then wham I’m here. In some labyrinth of tunnels for ages on end with no company to speak of. Though last I checked the tunnel was stone and not whatever this is.” He went to poke the wall before Jesse pulled the man’s hand away, shaking his head. He may not know why he shouldn’t complete that action but he listened to Jesse anyway.

“Autumn? Then you’ve been in here for quite some time pal.”

The man hummed noncommittedly as they lapsed into silence. As they continued walking Jesse rummaged through his jacket pockets. He was looking for a specific item but had to pull out a small voice recorder, a lighter, a bloodstone and note pad first. Handing the miscellaneous items to the other man before continuing his search. “I know I have a package of beef jerky in here somewhere. I’ve lived in the desert long enough to always have some type of non-perishable on me at all times.”

The man cocked an eyebrow. “And the recorder?”

“I don’t feel myself without some kind of recorder.” Jesse grinned sheepishly. It wasn’t often that he had to explain why he had that, being that nobody knew made it easier. But ever since he was a teenager there was always a sense of unease if he didn’t carry it with him, he soon realized that it was due to the fact that people in Deadlock sometimes lost time or memories without knowing why.

And Jesse hated not knowing something.   
Finally finding what he was looking for he passed a portion to the stranger. “the names Jesse by the way.”

The man scarfed down the strip before answering with a muffled, “I’m Genji.” Then continuing the first meal he’s had in months. The journalist didn’t blame him.

The journey through the tunnel resumed in that manner for a while. The sound of ravage chewing of beef jerky, two sets of foot falls and the hole stretching of the holes in the walls eagerly waiting to swallow them hole, filled their world and nothing else. In that time, they traded tidbits of information.

No Genji did not know the way out. The most he knew is that he should do was continue forward and hope the exit would be down that path. That six months had passed since Genji last remembered being in the real world. That Jesse was a radio host and that Genji had many different job titles. It was a pleasant way to pass the time and helped block out everything around them.

But not entirely.

Genji had just started to pass his belongings back when everything shifted. They were both thrown off balance by a wild convulsion. The man-sized holes squeezed close only to pull themselves wider than before. They flickered open and closed as if they were taking deep breaths. Genji’s hands clenched at Jesse’s arm trying to steady himself. His grip too tight. His face cast in fear. The floor vibrated beneath the soles of their feet. The ceilings jutted down on them. Jesse could feel the world coming down on them, he could feel the impact of something against his skull. He could feel the walls moving and pulling the two travelers apart. 

No, it was only pulling Jesse away. 

His heart kicked up its beat and adrenaline filled his veins. He could feel his body being dragged through something, daring not to look back in fear of what he might see. He opened his mouth to call out to his panicking companion, but no words emerged. He could see that Genji was trying to say something.

He was frantic trying to communicate, yelling in a dire need to be heard. But Jesse didn’t hear a word of it, all he heard was the blood pumping in his ears. It was getting harder to focus. The world was getting darker, but he saw a final flash of green, a fast motion and then nothing.

He blacked out.

Jesse’s head was killing him, his back strained leaning over his desk. Behind his eyelids he could see the faint hints of light and the sound of the weather ending. Jesse knew he had to get up, but everything hurt so terribly. He couldn’t think presently. He couldn’t even remember what occurred before the weather started. 

Well except that there was a blackout, but that was minor news…

\------

Welcome back listeners, that weather was longer than usual wasn’t it? I think we can all blame the blackout for that. 

Anyways, as you all may have noticed the power is back on. I have a flashing red memo from the city council stating that today’s blackout was due to prolonged destruction caused by the sandstorm earlier this week. I don’t understand why the city council looked into this matter; all electrical problems should go over to public service to take care of. The authority should not go to such a minimal inconvenience that barely even affected anyone in town. most of had a pleasant day wondering about our own existence is the safe darkness of our homes, just lazing about. 

Julian Le Blanc took his family to the park for a picnic enjoying the outdoors. Even now they are sitting on a cotton blanket while he shakes his head muttering to his girlfriend’s son, “they don’t remember… it was so close, but they don’t remember any of it…”

What could we have for gotten Deadlock? I don’t feel like we’ve forgotten anything. Sure, my desk is more cluttered than normal, and I don’t remember any of it being here before the weather… but surely, I would remember not remembering something…

Wait… why’s my pocket recorder on my desk? I only take it out if I don’t have my set up to broadcast important information. I don’t remember this.

Okay just to say that I checked let’s play what’s on the tape…

\---------

Static played through the receiver. The sound of something jostling the device then just more static. Until…

“…ALIVE!! TELL MY BROTHER IM ALIVE!! WATCH OUT FOR TALON!! PLEASE JE-“

The radio host shut off the device as quickly as was humanly possible and stared at the red light next to the words on air.

\-------

I… I don’t know what’s going on I don’t know this man’s voice on my recorder. I… don’t know what he’s talking about, or how he was able to record it.

Maybe I… maybe we did forget something, but I think I’d rather not know I forgot it, rather than forever wonder what it was and why I… no we. We all forgot it. There’s something truly terrible about knowing the unknown. It would be better to just forget again. 

I’m going to go lock this up in the records room where it won’t be found again. While I do that you all should forget as well.

Stay tuned for the sound of flickering lights, a looming presence, and deep breathing as someone speaks of a place you’ve never been and repeating that you have but you just didn’t physically go.

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge. Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's proverb is;  
> Don't be afraid of the dark. Be afraid of what hunts you in the dark.  
> Today's weather was "Doomtree" by The Bends.


	7. The Disappearance of Lena Oxton

Ever since the power outage not too long ago Hanzo felt as if he had missed something. That he unknowingly overlooked some detail that demanded his attention, but he had no way of knowing which way to direct his gaze in order to catch this information. Like he missed a meeting that should have been destined to happen but instead slipped away. It gnawed at him in his waking hours and prevented sleep in the cover of night. Hanzo was not the only one who felt it, Sora and Haru felt it too the weight of knowing that they may have neglected some detail that was important to their master’s purpose here in this strange desert town. The dragons squirmed with unease, unsure of what they had not foreseen that fateful day not three weeks back.

  
But even with this unsettling feeling, the three of them persisted. With more determination for answers and keener senses, daring not to let an opportunity pass by once more. He knew he was on the right track, he had information. Maybe not information that would lead him directly to his brother’s whereabouts. But information none the less. And he could work with that.

  
Genji had been out in this part of the country at first to track a particularly suspicious cult group. It drew their attention by accident really, someone they owed from years ago had been ignored by all official organizations when her only child disappeared. Finding the child proved to be more difficult than the brothers had anticipated. They believed it to be some supernatural force that was the culprit, but the truth was unclear. Even after finding the child with glassy eyes and dull expression the brothers knew there was more to the situation. The girl never reacted or responded to the two Shimada’s and their dragons relayed that she was no longer of the world. She would forever remain an empty shell, figuratively and literally.   
It was a grim tale to relay to the child’s mother. 

  
However, the person or persons who conducted the kidnapping were sloppy and Genji begged to track it on his own. That it would be simple to track them and that as soon as he found the criminal he would call.

  
He never called and Hanzo regretted allowing him to go alone.

  
The last update he had received had been about an alarming number of cults and ill looking groups that could possibly have the magical capabilities to pull off the crime. 

  
So that’s where Hanzo started, and he had to say Deadlock Gorge had a frightening number of these organizations. Tracking their movements from the last couple months has proven to be tiring work, but it was necessary in order to narrow down the suspects. It was a necessary evil. 

  
He had resigned himself to long hours running any lead he found ad dismissing what proved irrelevant. Not to say he did not take breaks, but they were far and few between. To the point where his habits had worried Mei enough to direct Hanzo straight out the door towards the direction of the Slip Stream Café. Declaring that if he wanted to do anymore research today, he first had to take a coffee break.

  
So that is how he found himself walking down the crowded sidewalk to one of the few places he frequents in town, his head too full and body lacking in caffeine. Peculiarly the foot traffic became more dense the closer he approached the restaurant. By the time he was at the front of the building there was a small hoard of customers swarming the entrance. Pushing his way to the front he took notice of what all the commotion was, clearly displayed in the window was a sign that plainly stated:

  
**Do to circumstances the café is closed till further notice.**  
**We apologize for the inconvenience.**

  
Well that put a damper into his plans and he only hoped that Mei would allow him back into the lab. To buy himself time he put in his earbuds, turned on the radio and went for a stroll in the park.

\--------

  
Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief. All will see grief.

  
Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

  
Hello dearest listeners, there is some startling news today. As many of you have noticed the Slip Stream Café has yet to open and according to my resources it will not be opened until today’s news is solved. What is today’s news, you ask? 

  
Well, I’ll tell you, earlier this morning while Lena and her wife Emily were preparing to open up the café, Lena began to glow a bright cyan and within a second a bright flash of light filled the prep area and Lena and the expresso machine were gone. A truly dreadful event for those close to the young brit and coffee lovers. 

  
Her wife Emily pleads with the community that if you have seen Lena, alert her or the secret police immediately. The sheriff of the secret police quickly responded that it’s not the polices job to look for missing people. We cannot just go around searching for just anyone. Now if that person did a crime or had some kind of secret, we would be interested in then maybe we would be more invested in this matter. But as of right now the police have more important matters to attend to, like fixing that machine that forces people to admit to crimes they have yet to commit.

  
We will bring you more news as it happens. 

  
On further notice South Horizon middle school is having their annual fundraiser and bake sale. All of the school board will be competing with each other to see whose homemade food is superior. By winning they will prove that their child is far better than the rest, that no one could dispel the fact that they did a better job being a parent then everyone else. That THEY are better than everyone else.

  
Personally, I cannot wait for the basket auctions. Where we are all hoarded into the auditorium, and a voice influences us all to put money in a box while an unknown entity catalogs every person and the amount they donated. Then at the end of the night after hours of standing in one place sweating and feet swelling, the entity will chose the person who relinquished the least amount of cash and sacrifice them to become the new host body for the unknown all knowing entity. The entity will force the chosen host to be a “kinder” more “generous” person. We will all watch as the persons subconscious is overtaken and they wither in pain at our feet while they slowly lose everything they are to that being. Ah, it is truly the highlight of the night.

  
Much better than Molly Hawls baked casserole, Molly that’s the wrong kind of baked goods and we all know it.

  
And now a word from our sponsors.

  
Do you have anxiety? Well there’s Anxi-X for those feelings of dread, of love, of morbid fascination. Any feelings at all? That can be fixed with Anxi-X. Talk to your doctor about Anxi-X, your doctor does not exist. You made them up so you could feel better about your deteriorating health and bad choices. That is how healthcare works. Continue to pretend your doctor exists. Your doctor will let you take whatever you want. Do not take Anxi-X if you have ever stared at a tree. Trees are departmental to your health. Bullet holes are common on Anxi-X. Telekinesis is uncommon, but if you find that objects start to float in moments of mental stress stop taking Anxi-X and go to your nearest elementary school and use your new found powers to throw the principal out the second story window. Ask your doctor about machu picchu, it is the home of Pokémon. Your doctor knows all about Pokémon, of course they do. Do not take Klanis it is our competitors. Klanis feels like fire in your veins. Crawling, burning up you veins. Late at night and when you are out in social settings, actually like all the time really. Do not take Klanis. Anxi-X is a nuclear bomb, a powerful explosion that causes countries to surrender great wars, do not drive while taking Anxi-X. Do not blink for one hour after taking Anxi-X.  
You feel things that’s why there’s Anxi-X.

  
The board of wildlife preservation would like us to remind you to take notice of your environment. The environment is important. Without it there would be no spring or fall or winter. There will always be summer, there is no getting rid of summer. When you look around your surroundings what do you see? Do you see desert horizons? Patches of green fertile grass with trails and park benches? Do you see water? You wish you saw water, but this is the desert, there is no water. Unless, you’re at a pool. Are you at the pool?

  
No. you are surrounded by none of those things. You are in a sea of paperwork and office supplies. You are in a civilization of merchandise, towering far above you. You are in the womb of your bed. You haven’t even thought about the environment, like ever. The dozens of recyclables that vague yet menacing organizations say you should be disposing of properly. The water you leave running as you sink further into your own head. You haven’t thought of any of that. Why? Maybe the earth doesn’t want you. Maybe it never did. What would that mean for you? You should stop looking, but go ahead and think about it though.

  
There have been sightings of Lena Oxton all throughout town. Some brief moments where she flickered into existence only to disappear once again, others were minutes of relief from the frantic displacement. Hana Song and her friends witnessed the café owner’s opaque form over the ramps of the skate park. Her arms waving in a desperate attempt to call for aid, her ghost like shape trying to call out but no words passed her lips. Hana guessed that the woman was saying something along the lines of “that last trick was sick” or “those headphones really compliment your long-furred ears.” Then within the next few seconds she was gone, and so was her board that had previously been carrying her body which left her to crash. 

  
Mako Rutledge had been scrounging through the heaps of unused goods piling up his property when the brit appeared with a bright light above a vintage car. While she still passed through any object she reached out for, her voice was able to be heard. Lena began an enthusiastic one-sided conversation about the settlers that founded our town. Stating that she had just witnessed the birth of our lovely community. She went on and on about the people and crowns the elders wore back in the day that were made completely out of gums and teeth. She was so preoccupied with the conversation that she forgot to ask about her wife or even request help from the Junker before she vanished once more. Mako let out a sigh of frustration as the object he had been feverishly looking for went with her into the unknown.

  
And now it’s time for the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

  
Today we are learning about the secret language of flowers. Now as you all know that despite color or shape these meaning remain the same and do not change, all intelligent citizens know all the flowers and their complex codes. Today we will only be going through the most common flowers.  
Carnations, these are a warning that a secret will be revealed, forcing the receiver to flee the country. You better have a bag prepacked if you are gifted this flora. You don’t have time to pack one if you don’t. What is that noise listener? Is there someone at the door? Daffodils represent that those around you have slowly grown to resent you and are planning to take violent action. A daisy is that there will be tragedy in the near future most like by the hands of the squirrel underworld.

  
A lily tells us that everything in the universe is growing farther and farther away from everything else. Some things may clash in a brilliant dance of color and destruction. But that will be the last fleeting touch we will feel. Like the last embrace of a lover before they walk out of your life. Like the final autumn day before an endless winter. Like the moment you feel all too much before you stop feeling anything at all. All of that but far more violent. Then after the sweet violence, nothing forever more. What’s left is an empty starless sky. Only void. A cold existence. It’s gotta start somewhere, might as well start with you.

  
And finally, a rose is code for love. Pure unadulterated painful love.

  
And that wraps ups the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

  
Citizens of Deadlock, Lena is disappearing and reappearing at such a rapid pace that she seems to be in multiple places at once. With each occurrence, more and more personal property has vanished. Hundreds of unhappy town folk have gone down to city hall to complain and demand for their property back. Through the windows of city hall the city council all harmoniously bellowed that they didn’t have the faintest idea where these items went but they had go to back to figuring out a way to prevent the missing woman from appearing in the important rooms in the city hall and taking something that should not see the light of day. 

  
The crowd and Lena’s desperate wife were about to disperse when suddenly the motorcycle of the sheriff of the secret police rolled up. With its loud engine, the fire spewing out of is pipes and the American colors paint job that screams Patriot. The bike was the same, the sheriff however wasn’t. he still wore his vibrant leather and his enormous rifle was still strapped to his hip. But replacing his face visor that usually covered his chin to his eyebrows was a paper bag.

  
He climbed off his vehicle, face hidden beneath the rustling bag, announcing that if anyone see’s Lena Oxton do anything you can to detain her. The secret police will do everything in their power to make sure the citizens of the town will get their property back. This is their top priority. They will ransack every home in search of these missing goods the person whose residence or business contains these goods will be forcibly dragged out into the desert and thrown into a containment chamber deep within the gorge. However, unlike the other criminals and hostages there, they will not have access to Netflix or Hulu.

  
Darling listeners, the secret police have begun barging into our homes demanding and attempting to beat answers out of the residents. Shouting things like “CHIEF NEEDS HIS VISOR” and “WHERE IS IT” while shaking the person they are questioning. I beg you to comply Deadlock these men and women are on a desperate mission and will not be stopped. There has been no further signs of the missing coffee shop owner and I worry about her safety in this panic. But alas there is not much I can do from here at the radio station. 

  
Do you hear that? There’s a banging at the studio’s door, either it is my turn to be interrogated or have done something to anger station management t. which would be bad since employee evaluation is just around the corner.

  
I will have to leave you briefly darling listeners, but until I return, I bring you the weather.

\-----------

Color. Light. Reality. Illusion. Time.

  
These concepts, concepts that had once seem definite facts, were abstract now. They bent and twisted themselves without rhyme or reason and they carried her away like a current. Forcibly without caring for her own desires. Why she was pulled away she does not know, but she knows shes probably seen too much. The strange occurrences that led to the founding of her town, a future where the world was brought to its knees by betrayal and a red god, she ran into herself on multiple occasions and she witnessed the first sunrise. Undoubtedly Lena had seen a lot today.

  
The darkness that enveloped her in the in-between trips slowly faded and light reached her once more. The scene opened up into Deadlock Gorge, whether it was her Deadlock Gorge or one of the many parallel ones she visited she did not know. She could tell that she had never stepped into a building such as this before. Blinking monitors connected to long twirling wires decorated the desktops and walls. A board with names and confusing titles were marked in cautious details, notes were under each and some exhibited furious crosses in the titles making them near illegible. The room was empty except for a lone man facing the board.

  
Lena knew this man. he was a man who often frequented her shop. He would attempt to order a dark bitter drink each time. Another person would say such a drink suit the man with his sharp sober features, but Lena could tell that the man favored sweeter drinks. And though he favored them if it was left up to him, he would continue to deny himself these drinks. Lena knew that he would need a pick me up when heading in or out from work. Lena could always tell what specific drink a customer needed and why. Always. If lab work were truly that bad, Lena would be glad that she didn’t have to work in one. So, Lena Oxton found herself in the lab of one Hanzo Shimada.

  
Hanzo seemed stressed, he rubbed his forearms in an attempt to soothe some deep-down ache the cyan light that repealed off her figure did funny things to that tattoo of his. His shoulders hunched with the action giving him a depressing aura. Lena could not see his face, but she assumed it looked just as burdened. He shifted in what seemed to be an attempt to get up. When he turned and was brought face to face with Lena’s eerie form, a startle yelp left his lungs. Taken aback they stared at each other for a long second before Hanzo composes himself and approaches the brit.  
“Lena?” a hoarse whispered unbelievingly. “I heard on the radio what happened, but I didn’t…”

  
Lena fought off a grin if it weren’t for the situation, then seeing Hanzo without his composure would be bloody brilliant. However currently it left the woman with an air of awkwardness, like she had done something wrong but could not remember for the life of her what it was. “what that it was true? No sweat it is rather strange.” She stated calming trying to relieve some tension. “I’m just surprised I’m still here. Usually I only appear for a few seconds, only long enough to get a quick glimpse and then poof I’m gone again.” Her hands waving around in an enthusiastic manner as she explained.  
A quizzical expression crossed the mans face, he lifted his left hand up to his face, index finger just resting on his bottom lip as his brows furrowed. “and where exactly do you go,” he hesitantly glanced up towards her. “if you don’t mind me asking that is.”

  
The woman chuckled half-heartedly. “it's hard to say where I go, sometimes it is present day Deadlock, sometime the future or past. Other times it feels like I’m not even on the same planet. I can’t really pin it down.”

  
Hanzo Shimada perked up in intrigue. On the verge of asking more questions when she flickered. She could feel herself being pulled back again. The man hurriedly asked if they could discuss more later, however before could answer Lena was gone again.

  
The black void surrounded her once more, its landscape barren and suffocating. It was like every other time she had found herself here, but Lena no longer felt alone. She didn’t know why felt this way but she did. It left her more at ease even when surrounded by all the emptiness this place had provided. Then all of a sudden color penetrated her retina’s and she found herself somewhere else.

  
The sun had just passed below the horizon. A chill had settled into the air too warm to be that of winter but too could for it to have been summer. The streets of her town were deserted, and she stood alone, or at least she thought she was. But further down the street there was a figure lurking in the shadows. Like any good Deadlock citizen her first assumption was that she was witnessing a shadow figure looking for its next haunt. Lena knew that if that was the case, she should find the nearest secret police officer, but with the streets barren it was unlikely she would find one before she vanished once again. Plus, Lena doubted that a shadow figure would have vibrant green hair, a samurai sword and cargo pants. She could see the hair or even the weapon, but no way would such a menacing creature be caught dead in cargo pants.

  
She drifted as close as she dared, unafraid in her translucent state. She could hear the figure mutter some notes or commands to himself. As the words flowed Lena could feel a clawing sensation along her back which was strange being that she hadn’t been able to physically feel anything since this morning. She was directly being the figure which she could tell was that of a male, she could peer over his should while still not making contact. With the closer Lena was to this man the more frantic the feeling on her back was. As its distress grew so did her own. Cautiously she turned her head slowly to glace over her own should and clinging to her shirt was a glowing creature. It looked to be a snake but somewhere in her screamed that this was no snake, it was something more. Something ancient. Its claws dug into the fabric as though it was desperately trying to ground itself. They stared into each other’s eyes. Then it chirped, and she shrieked. When her voice carried the short distance to the stranger a yelp escaped his lungs and he spun towards her with his sword drawn. His eyes widened as he locked onto the not snake that was now climbing onto her shoulder. 

  
Everything flickered once more and before she disappeared, she heard his whisper on the wind. It was a soft “brother” and then darkness again.  
There was a brief period of time where Lena couldn’t see anything. She just drifted in the void. For how long she truly could not say but her mind told her it was a short experience. She trusted her mind with these details. And so, when she was blinking in the sun again, she was relieved that she was right. It hadn't been long at all.

  
However, the sight before her was not a relief. The air was encompassed in smoke and fire that burned her lungs with each breath. Bodies were decorating the scene, bloodied with gore that crunched under her feet. Flags flew lamely and horses sprinted in panic. Metal clashed with metal in the distance. The building were old, seemingly never touched by the hand of the modern age. And though the not snake was gone, the stranger’s sword laid in her palm. 

  
This place was in all senses foreign to her, but she knew it from somewhere. Lena took in the scene, standing among the carnage and ruin, sword still grasped in hand. She pondered uncaring of the violence and bloodshed, racking her memory for where she knew this event from. Then like a lighting bolt it hit her, and she exclaimed aloud. “JOAN!! Joan of Arc!”

  
In that instant the skirmishes closest to Lena stopped and stared at her in bewilderment.

  
A man in impressive armor bellowed, “Je pensais que nous avions déjà capturé Joan?” his voice carrying a hint of confusion and fear.

  
“At-elle échappée?” another quarried. 

  
They all began speaking in a language Lena did not understand. They shouted and debated with each other, but when they quieted down she could see the intent in their eyes. As the men began to charge her, she did the only thing she could think of and raised the sword clenched in both hands now, her knuckles pale with intensity… 

\------------

Listeners, as you all patch up any customary interrogation wounds, I am happy to relay some good news. Lena Oxton is back to normal she appeared back in her café without any glow or otherworldly affects. Her body was once more solid. Time flowed through her at a normal speed, or at least as normal as it usually is in Deadlock Gorge. She hugged her wife and cried tears of joy. She was home.

  
As for the sheriff’s search for his visor and the other missing belongings in town, just a few minutes ago in the home of Melvin Flemming, all the missing property was piled away in his secret basement. As he was dragged away by the once again masked sheriff he cried out hat he didn’t even know he had a basement. That he didn’t how the items got there or why. The sheriff grunted with effort never ceasing the motion of pulling the man by his ankles, he grumbled that only a guilty man would claim such things and continued on his long trek. 

  
So, to anyone who was visited by Lena today and now finds themselves absent of their goods you can find them down in Melvin’s basement on 23rd and maple.

  
I think today has really shown us not to take each for granted. Hold your loved ones close. Cherish those around you and hope you never have to let them go.

  
Stay tuned for Deadlock's hottest late night radio show “hat does it have in its grubby pocketes?” where one person tries to guess what someone has in their pockets and if they get it right the consequences could be dire.

  
Goodnight Deadlock Gorge. Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Todays proverb:  
> The wheels on the bus go around and around and around and around and around and around. They wont stop...  
> Todays weather was "Where Did I Go" by Erin McKeown.


	8. The Anomaly

Hanzo Shimada could be described as a stubborn man. A man who was reluctant to accept help and unwilling to ask for it. Giving orders or information to others was far easier than admitting that something was beyond his capability to resolve, but even he had his limits. 

And this just might be beyond him.

The fact was he had been in a loop, he had woken up that morning around 6:35 am he went about his morning rituals in the usual fashion then continued on to his morning meditation. When he finished it was nearing 7:40 am, so he went to make some tea and eggs before heading out to the office. But then the irregularity happened the electronic clock on the stove, the coffee machine, the lights all started to glitch and then it was 6:35 am and he was just getting out of bed again. At first, he thought it was simply a dream that he had not gotten up at all, that it was just some lucid imagining on his part. He completed the exact same actions but found himself at 6:35 am twice more. He changed the order of his actions but still he went back. He tried doing nothing but was rewound in time again. Each time he never made it past 7:40 am. Hanzo knew time didn’t always work in Deadlock but there was a difference from being unable to keep record of its flow and going against its flow. And without control over it.

Logically due to recent events in any time related mishaps, Lena would most likely be the most knowledgeable source of information. But because of said events she’s been taking some down time at home and not seeing anyone. They hadn’t even been able to continue their conversation from that day yet. Mostly because the day off he had been digging in somebody’s basement trying to find his missing dragon. Hanzo had search for hours on end, he eventually did find her with her body coiled around his brother’s sword. Which consumed his thoughts in the passing days. So, it would be impossible to reach her right now, or at least very rude to do so.

Trying not to think about the time loop was unfeasible as well, after being in his sixth round of it. Maybe there was something he was supposed to do. Something he missed. Something he hadn’t done yet. Something he could do to break the loop.

So, despite it being too early for the community radio, Hanzo turned the dial on the retro radio that had come with the house. He waited for the electronic to connect. While he waited there was only silence. Then a soft popping noise rang out, after that static. Only static. 

This channel never resorted to static. There was always something playing on this frequency both before and after the community radio. This was wrong. Franticly he checked the riddles channel and the channel that for some reason only played recordings of the same strange interrogations of some unknown person, both were static. Sliding the dial in every direction he could he only found the buzzing of empty airwaves until a deafening screeching came over the line then nothing.

For a long moment there was nothing. Then that moment ended, and someone could be heard through the receiver. No, not one person. Dozens or more all spoke in unison. All of different tone, accent, and emotion, but not of mind. Though each was different they were all the same. It felt amiss. The voices just breathed into the radio for what felt like forever. Then they spoke.

“ARE. We. home?”

A chill ran its way down his spinal column forcing his skin to prickle with unease. As quickly as he could Hanzo turned the radio off. That thing, whatever that thing was felt terrible, it felt evil. And yet frighteningly enough it felt familiar…

Hanzo quickly ran to his study and worked with the trackers, the radars, and monitors. He looked over their readings on the channel that he picked up. He checked them again and again. That couldn’t be possible, how could that signal not be coming from any known tower, let alone frequency.  
But the results were correct.

Scanning the monitor his eyes landed on a number spewed among his paperwork. He was told to call this number in case he discovered something, anything. Hanzo had yet to actually call this person personally. The time before, Mei had called for him. With some reluctance he gingerly picked up his phone, dialed the number and waited. He rubbed his clammy palm on his pants and tried to be patient.

A click rang through signaling that the call was picked up. Hanzo used that second to center himself.

As calmly as he could he greeted, “Hello sorry for the early call but this is Hanzo Shimada. Can I get ahold of Joel Morricone from the community radio?”  
A sleep groused voice answered. “This is him; I’ve been hoping you’d call darlin'. How can I help you?” the man sounded happily surprised to hear from him; he couldn’t help the nervous smile that it caused to stretch shyly across his face.

Hanzo took a deep breath and looked to the clock. It read 7:41 am.   
\-------------

Dear god… Olly, Olly those horrendous oil driven, children snatching things you call oxen are free…

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

It is another lovely dreadfully hot day under that floating orb we all call the sun. the breeze blows through the dunes, children laugh and play among the wastelands, you can hear my voice through the airwaves, and I awoke to a call from the town’s heartthrob Hanzo Shimada. Which in its own right is amazing news, even without any future plans for a date. 

Station Management however is making loud cries in the tones of ancient tunes demanding that I first discuss the actual news before diving into anymore science related ramblings or my lack of a love life.

But before getting to the hard-hitting news lets go over today’s forecast:

There will be clouds that glow in shades of purples and reds like gas out in the void. There will also be clouds of normal whites and grey like flaking paint in a room you don’t remember ever painting. And there will also be no clouds. None at all. You will look to the sky and remember the day long ago when you last saw clouds of this warm hue, the memory isn’t a warm one at all, not like those plum and crimson clouds. You’ll stand unmoving on your porch, stalled from all you had planned to do that day. Too deep in thought of talons and canyon walls like intestines. 

Or you will briefly look out your window and see the same old clouds that you’re used. You won’t think nothing of it and continue your routines like you do every day. The clouds will be just outside the window when you answer your phone. They will still be there when you run out the door unaware of them because its just like any other day.

Or you will gaze out at the clear nothing and be absorbed into that nothing.

This has been today’s forecast.

Deadlock firefighters want to give some tips on how to handle the early summer heat. As the temperature rises, he warned that overheating may become a risk, to combat this risk try the confusion tactic. This is a tactic often used to fight fires and as scientist try to convince us stars like our sun are just fire and gas. So look at the sun and bellow out “IT’S SOOO COLD, THIS ISN’T HOT AT ALL!! I’M FREEZING OUT HERE!! HEY SUN DO YOUR JOB!”. If that doesn’t work try tip number two pose leisurely, exaggerate your movements and put on more cloths, really tear down the suns self-esteem. Next start running in place like the heat has no effect on you. If you preform all three of these actions, there is a chance that you will anger that ball of gas so if the heat seems to be getting worse just wave that white flag, waggle your finger and head back inside.

“It would be so much easier to beat the heat if there was some type of waterpark or beach, we could all escape to.” The chief fire fighter muttered. The rest of the squadron nodded and chattered about it being a good idea, like on that game show where familial groups try to guess answers in an attempt to win money and cars. What was the name of that show? Oh, that’s right it’s Dexter.

This Saturday was the reopening of the botanical garden, now owned and run by this massive box like contraption that goes by the name Bastion. As you all will recall the botanical garden has been closed since Valentine’s day a few months back. But it now seems to be better than ever under this new management. A crowd had gathered around the entrance to view this event, Efi Oladele and Mina Liao, both machine enthusiasts, were among the gathering chanting ‘robots’ over and over and over again. Though Bastion could not speak and only relayed speech patterns through beeps and whistles, the opening and closing hours as well as the rules and public safety warnings were translated through a small yellow bird that was nesting on the bots equivalent of a shoulder. One minute the creature was placing twigs on a nest entwined with ribbon a string, the next the fowl stared unblinking into the assembly and without moving its beck or conveying the motion of speech told the onlookers that the garden would be open to the public from dawn to dusk or until that feeling of restlessness finally settles and a wave of accomplishment washes over you. These words did not appear to directly come from the bird, no one in the crowd heard it but they all claim to have felt them.

Okay enough of that, lets talk about my phone call. So, this morning I received a call from everyone’s favorite scientist. I answered professionally, and absolutely not vibrating out of my skin with nervous energy. Hanzo seemed frantic, his voice making cute little pitches and while I enjoyed the sound of them, I took no joy in the emotion that caused them. He described his morning to me in vivid detail how from the moment he woke up certain actions would repeat themselves, he constantly found himself awakening to the same morning over and over. He told be he tried to perform new proceedings to discovered if there were specific variables that kept bringing him back into this loop. But couldn’t find any. Hanzo knows that time doesn’t always work but it shouldn’t repeat, that’s just not scientific he exclaimed. He didn’t mention his residing fear of these unbroken chains of events, but I could hear it in his tone and the uneasy click of his tongue. He did however mention that the chain was broken when he tried to check for the community radio station. And that just makes me twitter pated, that he thought to come here for answers. However, he didn’t find any answers. According to him all the stations were dead, nothing played. Only static could be heard like the distant cry of birds flying into an engine. Frenetically he turned the dial, searching for a signal, any signal. And he found one. A frequency he claims had never existed before today, one that came through his receive in a noise that was somewhere between a deafening hiss and a scream. Hanzo claimed a many voiced thing relayed a cryptic message before he turned the device off and hurriedly checked his data and doohickeys before calling me.

Hanzo wanted me to warn you listeners not to change the dials off of this station. So, don’t touch your radio’s, phone’s or government issued dogs for the rest of today. He fears that whatever is communicating to us through this channel can hear you and is trying to gain something from you. He said he’d call again when he has more information.

Well, I think its interesting that we have a new channel in town, my competition with the ‘Riddles’ channel was getting real boring. They don’t even respond; they just say two to five words with chime sounds breaking up each word group in the same monotone voice. Like they don’t even have a social media.

This mystery frequency might be fun. As long as they don’t get a higher rating then us, I fear what station management would do. And with employee reviewal fast approaching I do not want to anger management.

We go now live to the traffic:

The traffic misses you listener, it wants you to know this.

It misses the stream of air from your lungs, and the way your heart pumps useless liquids. It misses your white knuckles, and all of your fluids. Its been awhile and it now craves you listener. 

It wants you out there on its thick skin with your thick metal, your supple body on it's porous surface. Because, listener, it wants you out there again, and this time it won't let you go.

It will wrap it's black arms around you and pull you in, because it loves you, because it misses you. 

And I personally think it is a real shame that you haven't been there for it. The traffic has been having a rough time lately, and this is a poor time to leave it all alone.

Listeners we should all go to the traffic soon and let it know that it is not all alone.

The poor traffic…

This has been the traffic.

During the break Hanzo had sent me a couple text messages to keep me updated. Awe how sweet of him. Oh, what no it says so I can keep the town updated. Well a little disappointing but okay. The messages say this:

“I have been going around town with my team to record where these frequencies are coming from. We can already tell that certain areas in town pick up these signals better. I am dubbing them Calling Zones.”

“It seems that my house is one of these Calling Zones.”

“The Cosmic String Diner, City Hall and the Radio Station may also be Calling Zones based on my readings, so if you are in those areas don’t touch a radio, don’t even think about it.”

Now I know he said not to check out the channel, but I’m a journalist, and what kind of journalist would I be if I didn’t report on this. I might just discover something that will help the man out. I know that’s most likely a job for a scientist, but we’ve all been a scientist every once and a while.

So right now, I’ve set up the stations back up radio in front of the microphone, hopefully darling listeners you’ll be able to hear whatever signal we get. I am now slowly turning the dial each click edging me on as I hear the underlying static that Hanzo had told me about. Oh! There’s a pinging sound I think we got something!  
\--------

HELLO.  
LOST. BROTHER. Not to find.  
HOPE all IS fine. HUNGRY no LONGER. Can’t FIND a way OUT.  
KNOW. Way. OUT?  
\----------

Who exactly is this? And what are you trying to find a way out of?  
\---------

LISTEN. RADIO ghost. BLUE brother.  
KNOW. Way. OUT?  
\---------

I don’t understand what you mean. Let’s start over, names Joel, I work for the community radio here in Deadlock Gorge. Who are you and where are you trying to leave?  
\---------

DEADLOCK. Gorge?  
NOW and LATER. HERE but NOT. Future. MAY. Tell.  
THE. Order. IS. Crimson.   
THEIR. Talon. IS. Soiled.  
Their deeds CHANGED the TIDES to come. AN UNEXPECTED lord AWAKED.  
THE. Tunnel. The. RED. CAVERN.  
It. Wants. TO. Go. HOME.  
\---------

Aaaaand there’s just static. I-it seems that whatever or whoever we were just conversing with is gone again. I don’t know what kind of scientific data one could pick out of that mess, but that definitely sounded strange. Not that we know anything about that kind of thing here.  
Hanzo has been sending me more messages, some of which I should not read on public radio. Apparently, that little conversation we had, has opened up more anomalies all over town. Citizens have reported getting stuck in time loops, experiencing invisible creature that morbidly only show up as strange twisted figures in photos, and blood dripping out of radio receivers, music boxes, and cracks between walls.  
Just stay calm everyone we’ll figure this all out but first let’s go to the weather.  
\----------

Hanzo did not know how they had gotten themselves in this mess. Well, he did but it was hard to stay mad at Morricone when he was feverishly texting him about how sorry he was about causing more problems for him and how he was just trying to help. Unfortunately, the endearing sincerity outweighed Hanzo’s frustration. He audibly sighed knowing there was nothing he could do. Pocketing his phone, Hanzo turned to Mei who was joining him on his search for the source of the signal. It was their best bet to close the anomaly and end the strange events occurring to the town folk. 

The further they got to the outskirts of town the stronger the frequencies became and the less static came through. Same segments of a broadcast came through the jeep radio they had rented at the national parks station. To be honest it reminded him of when he drove into town that first day. With the radio going in and out without truly catching the story it was trying to relay. He tried not to focus on it as he fiddled with the radio.

“blood spilt from the red god, did they…” static could be heard over the blood rushing through their ears. “how many more lives will be lost when it consumes again, we can only….” Mei’s knuckles whiten as she grips the steering wheel. “it is 2096, is anyone out there…” Hanzo turned the dial trying to find the signal again.

The strange broadcasts started to slowly fade as they drove into the desert and the low buzz that caused light to shift in unnatural patterns and effects, like the edges of a decayed tape. A chuckle could be heard over the wind picking up sand before it distorted like a scratched record that you just can’t bring yourself to remove from the cd player. It left him unnerved and he found himself fidgeting with the lock on the door to try to keep calm. His umber eyes cast to the canyons and gorges as they approached.

“hey, Hanzo?” Hanzo turned to Mei, a sheepish smile graced her visage, but her eyes focused on the road ahead. By her tone he could tell she was trying to reassure him, but his gaze drifted to her unrelenting grip and the uncomfortable pinch in her smile that didn’t truly reach her eyes. “we’re going to figure this out and save everyone, okay? No need to worry I got your back.”

He gave her the closest thing to a supportive look he could. “Ms. Zhou, I never questioned you being there for me, like I know how you trust me similarly.” Of course, she didn’t know that for some reason Hanzo felt this was an important piece to discovering where Genji was, she didn’t even know about his brother.

A guilty expression passes in her eyes. “sorry, sorry. Its just that you haven’t been yourself today, it had me worried.”

He smiled gently. “I’m fine.”

“Well okay. If its not the situation is it Mr. Morricone?” he could feel himself choke on his breath, just what was she trying to infer? She giggled. “you’ve been exchanging messages a lot today, and you had the sweetest look awhile back!”

“It’s purely professional.” He scoffed.

He ignored he bemused “sure” as the gorge began to tower above them. Mei shifted gears and pull the jeep into park, while Hanzo turned of the vehicle’s stereo and switched to his portable radio. 

The gorge was dark in the evening light, there were cracks in its surface that became increasingly animalistic as they neared it. They ran in long bloodied claw marks that stretched from the top of the walls to its base.

A chill passed through the two scientists Mei’s hands twisted the fabric of her tunic fretfully. “I’m sure there is a reasonable scientific explanation for this, right?”

He nodded even though he knew nothing within the frames of science could have mad these indents. Cautiously he stepped forward and turned the dial on the radio. From the corner of his eye he could see Mei reach out for one of the grooves to take a sample. Before he could call out to her in warning the pitch of the buzzing became a shriek and she yelped in surprised pain. Hanzo whipped around to check on her only to see her on her hands and knees, an inhuman chuckle leaving her, and the air shifted to something sinister around her.

“Mei?”

Her body twitched but did not respond to him.

“Mei? Are you alright?” 

Nothing still.

“Mei, answer me.”

Then with speed he had never associated with her, her head jerked upwards. Then her body twisted limply but with disturbing swiftness. Her face was cast in shadows and her eye were crimson as if blood had filled the entirety of them. An agonizing sound escaped her when she stood, like a frozen knife meeting warm flesh. Her mouth opened too wide to be possible. But it was not he voice that came out.

“HELLO. North WIND. Blue BROTHER. Looker for LOST.”

“Who are you? What have you done to my partner?” he called out as calmly as he could, but fear rose in his throat as the being inside his friend laughed wickedly.

“who. ARE. We? BLOOD. Lifetimes WORTH of Blood. AND her? NOT to WORRY. A VESSEL. Little. Harm. DONE.”

“So, what she’s just your puppet? You are not making any sense. Whose blood, what lifetimes I don’t understand.” How could he make sense of the situation if none this made any sense?

“HARD. To. Talk. THROUGH. MORTAL. A god. Spilt blood FOR a GOD. None CAME. UNDERSTANDING did IN time. ALL in TIME.”

“What came in time?” it was barely a whisper in his throat, but the creature tilted Mei’s head in a feline like manner.

“FOOD. Hungry SO long. One LEFT to CONSUME.”

Hanzo stayed silent for a moment stewing in the riddles he was being feed. “and what do you eat?”

“gods. ONE god, LEFT. One WHO did NOT come.”

“Why didn’t they come?” what was he supposed to say to this thing it only spoke what it wanted to reveal, Hanzo was grasping at straws. He only hoped to keep it talking.

“WHY didn’t THEY come?” it laughed in a stomach-churning way, it was sickly, like the dying breaths through ragged lungs. “THEY weren’t THERE. NEEDED. Connection. SPARROW. Radio GHOST. NORTH wind. Through THE airwaves. CAN not HURT you YET. Didn’t. come.”

Hanzo grip on the radio tighten, the radio he had been using ever since he got up this morning. “airwaves?”

“CONNECTION. You made the CONNECTION. Needed it TO find YOU.”

It seemed as if its gaze was fixed on that radio in Hanzo’s ever increasing grip. Its fingers twitched with every destressed creak of the small machine. Hanzo slowly backed away from the form of his friend. It moved forward to match his pace. “you need this, don’t you? You can’t stay here without it.”

The figure was silent. Then in a disorienting moment it lurched forward in an attempt to tackle Hanzo. But before it could cross the distance the device crumble in a decisive crunch. Blood trickled out of his palm from the inner workings of the device bursting out of its framework, as a shudder coursed through his partners body. She twitched violently and collapsed as the world surrounding them deformed one final time. Letting the machinery plummet to the sand Hanzo rushed to his friends’ side, setting her over to her back to check her eyes. Relief filled him as she wearily opened them, and her soft brown orbs stared back at him. Her breath was labored but overall, she was fine. They stood together and he supported her weight as they made their way back to the jeep, helping her into the passenger seat he glanced behind himself and saw the crevasses in the canyon had disappeared and all that remained has the remnants of his radio. He then joined Mei in the car, checked his phone and began the long journey back into town.  
\-----------

Welcome back Deadlock. All strangeness has dissipated from town, no matter how many times I change channels on the radio all that comes in are the same old stations we know and love. It is my belief that Hanzo and his team save the day and the people of this town. Our friends and neighbors are experiencing time normally and are no longer being haunted by things they can not see. Most importantly Hanzo texted me not to long ago and said that he was safe so I will leave todays broadcast there.

Stay tuned for the sound of air bubbles rising to the surface as ship sinks, the voice you’ve long forgotten and a song from a by gone era. 

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge. Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Todays proverb:  
> "Do you want to play a game?" is something that you should not want to hear outside of a party, unless that party has clown. in that case not then either.  
> Today's weather was "Faded" by P.O.S


	9. The Shucker

While Hanzo usually found beauty in the intricate complexities of day to day life that define the universe, but over the last week he just wished it would stop. After the encounter, the Monday prior, Mei-Ling decided to take some time off to decompress. Which he understood. Having to witness the way his friends body contorted, the unearthly voice echoing from her lungs through the canyons, and the spark of madness in her empty eyes, he too wanted to take time for himself. But with Mei gone that just meant extra work was pushed onto him and Winston. And Hanzo refused to leave all the work to his colleague.

But that meant that he had no time to investigate the site by the canyons. It was frustrating, the unnerving sensation of finally getting some kind of hint about his brother only to be turned away at every point.

If it wasn’t normal paperwork in the lab, it was Bon-Hwa song claiming that there were strange figures in the abandoned house across from her family home that looped in the same patterns every day. To which Hanzo to calmly explain that the house just probably wasn’t abandoned, and some other family was going about their daily routines. And that there was nothing scientific about that. Unless you counted the mundane mathematical patterns and semantics, we accidentally run our lives by.

Or checking in on miss Ana Amari and her claims that when she looks in the mirror, she sees an older woman who looks like her, but she can’t quite be sure. With her snow-white hair and one-eyed stare, its empty socket glowing menacing. How the house in the mirror seems to be the one she’s standing in but dirtier than its ever been in her entire time living there, like the world outside that room prevents it from ever truly being clean. The figure stares with its unsettling gaze, it whispers to Ana queer instructions. Hanzo had driven out to the residence to investigate the occurrence and while the figure never appeared to him, his dragons could feel a peculiar aura radiating off of its surface. Though he could not pinpoint its source. 

He had also spent most mornings at the Cosmic String Diner since the Slip Stream Café had yet to open. While their coffee was not close to Lena’s quality, the owner Edric Norton made the best pancakes Hanzo had ever eaten. When it was slow they would talk, the other man would go on about being a grandfather, or the lack of trees in Deadlock Gorge, or once about the scratching against wooden door panels Edric hears on the back door late at night when he’s all alone. On a busier morning Hanzo even ran into Jesse McCree. It was such a pleasant surprise that they sat together and had a lovely conversation over their food.

The list goes on and on.

In order to fit in finding any clues out where him and Mei found the anomaly, Hanzo had gone out three hours before the sunrise. Deciding to search before his workday began. His hands digging up soil samples. His eyes scouring the canyon’s faces hoping to find traces of the claw marks that carved its material. Shining a flashlight to find the pieces of broken radio left amount the sand. The words still echoing in his head.

Hanzo had been out there for a long while toiling away in some desperate hope to find something relating to Genji. That he almost didn’t hear it in the setting moonlight. Something shifting in the tall grass. Something lurking. Something that vaguely smelled of iron.

Lifting his gaze up as slowly as possible, so not to spook whatever was wandering out here in the early morning. When his eyes grazed the horizon line he saw it. Or at least partially. It was a bulky heavy breathing mass, that was illuminated in an ash pink like dying muscles. Maybe it was muscles. It crept slowly into the radius of his flashlight.

And then his alarm went off spooking the creature. The next thing he knew it was gone.

Sighing to himself he began packing everything into his vehicle, having discovered nothing new about his brother and possibly barely avoiding what could've been a fatal encounter.

Checking his phone Hanzo saw that he had forty-five minutes to make it back into town before he was expected at the lab. He tuned into the community radio and as soon as he was about to set his phone down to start his car, he saw that he had a new message. From Lena…  
\------------

Mary had a little lamb or at least that’s what she told us it was.

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

Dearest listeners today is filled with an accumulation of strange and beautiful things and Jack Morrison you know the farmer claims that thing in his cornfield that no one else has ever seen apparently that its gone missing. That’s happened today too. He has posted up flyers all around town with pictures of close-ups of too sharp teeth and very muscular tissue that and a still of his corn field at dawn of course. 

This morning he went out to his cornfield like he does every day, being a farmer and he looked around for this thing no one else knows what it looks like or what it is but he says it looks like a friend. except this morning it wasn't there. he looked and looked but consequently could not find it, he left out pies for it on his windowsill hoping to lure it into his property, like he does every day. But it did not show. he hopes that anyone around town may be able to identify his creature due to the pictures that he hung up early this morning. so, if anyone sees it call it in?

Now I’m not one for believing in imaginary friends or creatures with indescribable details, and the only thing that I know that we don’t know how to describe is a shadow figure. Now I’ve been told that one is on purpose, no one's supposed to know what a shadow figure looks like. Otherwise the City Council will send us into reeducation aka what they call wiping our memories. “It’s forbidden knowledge they say, something that's not supposed to be known by the public and if it is well that's bad and you’ve been bad. 

You all know what the consequences for being bad is. Which we hope someone is soon because we have not been able to use the death spiral conga line in a long time and we are excited for that party.” The cumulative form in which we call the City Council stated this morning. with a hint of cheer and wonderment and hopefulness that maybe someone will do something bad soon 'cause they haven't been able to celebrate anything recently and it's kind of been pissing them off. they went on to state “come on guys it's stress release being city councils hard too I know we take like a bunch of vacations and don’t generally do our job or care about the public but come on we deserve a party. Stop being so selfish humans.”

Now there are some features about this creature in the cornfield that we all know such as that it has six legs and it's unbearable to glance at, at least from an outside perspective that isn’t Jack Morrison. If you see something like that call it in.

In other news, because of the infiltration and total domination of the Cub Scouts In last month’s annual camping trip there has been a rearrangement of the ranking. Also, the cookie sales will look a little different this year due to new flavors coming out since the camping trip. Chairman Jeanette Wilson explained that they had a lot of extra material lying around and they might as well put it to use but will update you on that when they get the recipes to work. you don't know how hard it is to just throw a whole bunch of things together and make it actually taste decent. As for now the new ranking goes as follows.

Daisy scouts, brownie scout, blood hunter scout, abnormal scout, anxiety scout, and immortal scout. 

The public health board also released today that until further notice it is mandatory to wear a face. You must at all time be wearing a face when going out in public. So, to all the skinwalkers and face stealers out there no switching between face just pick one and keep it on for a while. At least till this call to action blows over or till you get fed up with it.

And now a look into the Horoscopes:

Pisces: you will experience great joy in the fact that you continue to exist. Cause really who knows when that’ll stop happening… for you Thursday.

Aries: you will persist in your nighttime wakefulness. Staring at the wall wondering why your body hates you in its refusal to rest. You will be ravaged by thoughts until it’s painful to think but think you will. Rest will not come for you Aries.

Taurus: BEWARE SOMETHING IS WAITING IN THE BUSHES FOR YOU. RIGHT NOW, DON’T LOOK, JUST KEEP WALKING.

Gemini: the ritual has been complete. You can stop now. There is no need to continue stoking the ashes. Let’s hope it worked this time…

Cancer: don’t be a door Cancer, letting those in your life enter and exit without even the consideration of knocking. Don’t be a doormat, collecting the dirt from the soles of shoes as people step upon you. Don’t be a window, a device used only to see through you to a more appealing sight beyond you. Don’t be a microwave, a river, or bed. Be an obelisk, let others bask upon you in your height and glory. Let them worship you. You deserve to be worshipped.

Leo: the stars have a special place in their hearts for you Leo, a new star was born yesterday, and they liked you so much they collectively named it after you.

Virgo: revenge is best served cold, Virgo. Unless revenge comes in the form of raw chicken, then maybe cook it then cool it. That is unless revenge is serving someone raw chicken, which would be convenient. Revenge is a serving of raw chicken.

Libra: don’t worry. Quicksand is not as big of a problem as you thought it was. Snake pits on the other hand are.

Scorpio: short on luck? Take someone else’s luck, rip it from their cooling body… oh sorry I misread that it doesn’t say luck it says life. Rip someone’s life from their cooling body.

Sagittarius: oh… I don’t feel comfortable reading this on the radio… but I’m so sorry.

Capricorn: take it one day at a time. Then take a week. After then take a month at a time. Take till you have enough days to fill a lifetime. 

Aquarius: okay so this is just a piece of paper that repeats scorpions over and over again…

And that concludes the horoscopes.

There have been reports of strange activities. Edric Norton reported a strange bulky figure outside the Cosmic String dinner after waiting it out he stepped outside to see that the trees he had planted up front his property had been splinted to stumps with carnage spread across the parking lot. Lucio Correia Dos Santos spotted the long shadow of a creature while riding his shooter through Lazy Day Drive. When he drove further, he stated that all the cars had been decimated to ribbons. And in the early hours Hanzo Shimada was stalked by a creature matching the same description, until it was scared off but the scientists alarm.

Now this is destressing news, all this damage will most likely cost the city a lot of money. We all remember the last time to city had to fund for major damages caused by unknown parties, they fumbled around for a long while without a suspect before drawing a name in a random auction forcing the winner to pay the complete balance. Then on top of it all they went on an all expense paid vacation to Fiji.  
I here at the station ask all the listeners to avoid whatever is wandering about. If you must go out or feel the need to find the creature please drive something durable.

And speaking of driving let’s take a look at the traffic.

There is said to be a place where the lost are found and misfortunate find refuge.  
But I’ve been lost all my days,  
And misfortune is all I’ve known.  
So, I have set out to find my paradise but have lost track of time, and only struggle more.  
They said to cross the mountains in their deadly perils.  
And I did.  
They told me to venture past the fog filled plains with their hollow hauntings.  
And I did.  
They beckoned me to board amidst the monstrous seas with their unconceivable depths.  
And I did.  
I have become more lost than before but find no heaven,  
I fear I have been lied to.  
But I search for you still,  
My sweet sanctuary.  
And that was the traffic.

The creature continues its rampage on the town. 

Multiple citizens have called in describing the beast. Including our new intern Lorenzo. He described the creature a mass of intertwining muscle, tissue and piercing teeth. It stood at least seven feet tall and it was last seen shredding anything within its reach with its deadly teeth. Lorenzo witnessed entire cars, streetlights and building fronts being shucked. Their surfaces being torn apart layer by layer, like an onion or corn till fragments were all that were left. 

The roadway between Turnpike point and Lazy Day Drive have experienced the most damage. All the streets between them have been rampaged by the creature except Brecon Grange where the farmers market is still in full swing.

Lorenzo just came running into the studio, hands waving franticly in the air, trying to grab my attention. 

What’s a matter? Wait… what do you mean the creature is heading straight for the radio station? What do you mean station management is missing?

Okay listeners I’m going to have to figure something out, but till I do I’ll take you all to the weather.  
\----------

There was a certain anxiety that came with Hanzo’s meeting with Lena that had never been there before when he had run into her in the past. Maybe it was the uncertain nature of this appointment. In the sense of topic or the revelations that may come with it. The topic was not a mystery for he could remember their last conversation as if it was only yesterday, but the effects it could have on him and his investigation into his brother’s disappearance could change everything. It was a small hope that this would reveal something.  
The likelihood of the topic of time travel having any relevance to Genji was unlikely. But still.

The woman sat across him in his office, her hands fidgeting with nerves and a awkward yet sweet smile playing at her lips. At least he wasn’t the only one who seemed anxious about this meeting. Though it has been going pleasantly so far. They had already gone through pleasantries and had discussed the horrendous traffic Lena endured to get to his lab, thanks to whatever mishap that was happening in town today. Tea had even been served. 

All of the polite social formalities had been preformed, so logically it was time to get down to the reason they were gathered. After clearing his voice, he spoke as calmly as he could. “so what did you wish to discuss miss Oxton?”

Something between a chuckle and a sigh escaped the brit. “during my… incident, I had promised you to come by and talk science with ye.” A far away look glazed her eyes before she continued. “A lot of things happened which prevented me from fulfilling that promise, but it had also left me with a bunch of questions of my own.” 

Hanzo watched as she shifted uncomfortably and contemplated his next move. 

“Science is just a list of questions that must be asked to truly understand. So if you wish miss Oxton, we can both take turns to ask question in hope of a clearer understanding.”

“That seems fair.” A meek smile graced her features.  
The first few were pleasant and noninvasive; they mostly were there to ease her nerves and break the ice. He asked if she was okay and she asked if she had scared him that day. Which he begrudgingly answered honestly. The jested back and forth till the unease had lifted.

Then for a while the questions had been purely scientific. They asked question on the universe, the movement of time. The affects time travel may have and even parallel dimensional theories.

Until Lena began to ramble. “whenever I jumped everything would change so fast, but at the same time stay the same ye know. Not in the sense that I would stay in the same place, no. it was more like some of the things around me when I jumped would jump with me and then disappear again after a while. I didn’t get to pick what went with me or anything like that and sometimes I didn’t even notice. But what I’m trying to say is after I visited you that day, I did bring something from here…” her expression dropped and seemed to puzzle over some detail or another. “the only way I can explain it was like a glowing blue snake thing?”

Stifling a laugh as he mentally ignored the disgruntled dragon. “I believe what you encountered was a dragon, miss Oxton. They are very proud creature’s and I would hate for you to hurt their ego's.”

A stuttering gasp left her lungs. “D-dragons? Those things are real??” At the mans amused expressions Lena's shock faded to bewildered neutrality. Muttering a quiet “wicked.”

Hanzo sipped his tea as the café owner processed the information.

Cautiously she met his eyes, “why do you have dragons? Not that I’m trying to pry or anything it’s just unusual.”

If this question were to be posed anywhere else In the world it would leave a bad taste in his mouth. His palms would calm up, and his jaw would stiffen. But this wasn’t anywhere else in the world, this was Deadlock Gorge.

Smiling slyly he answered. “If you are going to question all that is unusual in this town, you could ask why city council is a many headed creature. Or why the sandstorms can talk. Why this town gets radio frequencies that don’t exist. Or that one time everyone got phone calls from some whispering person. If we're truly talking unusual lets ask why no ones allowed to enter the playground?” her face fell into contemplation. “strange things happen in Deadlock everyday, some in the form of strange people or creatures, then others in unexplainable events. I just happen to have dragons.”

“If you put it that way I guess it makes sense…” Lena rested he hand along her chin in query. “It must not be too strange cause someone I ran into that day seemed to recognized it as well.”

That however did strike Hanzo as strange. For as long as he could remember his and Genji's dragons had been kept secret to all but a select few. “that shouldn’t be possible… the dragons are very rare. Could you perhaps describe this person?”

Lena stewed for some time searching her brain for the memory of this stranger. The dark street she had found him in. His green hair clashing with his black outfit. The sword strapped across his shoulder blades. His whispered words that sounded so familiar to the message she heard after the blackout a while back. She relayed this to the man, watching as all the color drained from his face. Hanzo's empty tea cup slipped through his fingers as he leaned forward demanding for any information she had.

As their newly frantic conversation continued the music on the radio slowly faded.  
\-----------

Welcome back listeners, let me regale the events that just unfolded. When I had left you intern Lorenzo had just informed me of the creatures approach. When I had left the broadcast room a faint screeching reached my ears, the sound was like a large animal slowly being killed with a potato peeler. Mind boggling and painful to listen to. 

The entire radio staff shambled out onto the doorsteps to witness this beings approach and the destruction in its wake. We stood in horror as we saw ribbons of store front being pulled through its teeth. Damage followed it through every block. With each car demolished into layers of steel and street lights in long thin coils. 

The staff attempted to make a blockade only for it to be laid to waste not long after, as well as a few people from the sales department. Most of the radio staff had fled, claiming the building to be doomed till I was the lone person standing on the buildings steps. The monster was five or six yards away, its hefty breath audible from the distance. Muscles twitching with each threatening footfall. Teeth rattling and I shook.

It grew ever closer and then above the sound of destruction came a voice. It called forward in the tone of a life long friend or relieved pet owner. It called like it had been lost until that exact moment. And like magic the threatening aura of this beast dissipated. It’s head perked up and its long boney tail wagged, turning the creature reveled the person calling, to be none other than Jack Morrison. They ran to each other and I was sure their meeting would be met with blood, but was instead met with a loving embrace and whispered endearments. They reconciled and began their long trek home. 

I returned to the station in a daze and here we are. In any words I can find I can only describe the scene as endearing and sweet no matter how strange it may appear from an outside perspective. It should be something we all hope for, to have so much of someone's love, care and worry. To truly be loved.

Stay tuned for live audio being streamed straight into your head from a very bad place.

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge. Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's proverb:  
> Live like today is the start of your mid life crisis, because it is.  
> Today's weather was "Sicilian Crest" by The Mountain Goats


	10. The Employee Revisions

After the revelation of Lena’s visit and the information it revealed about his brother, Hanzo was ready to take drastic measures. According to the barista when she encountered Genji in her jump, it looked like he was in the classier section of downtown. Which narrowed down the area he had to cover from Wee Row to Old Burrow Lane. This new perimeter covered about ten blocks in total.

Far more shocking was the discloser of the recording played on the community radio that she claimed shared a likeness to Genji’s voice. It was definitely a lead worth looking into. The dilemma with recovering said tape was that according to that particular broadcast the recording was placed in the records room to be forgotten. So, in order to discover what was on that tape he would have to break into the radio station. A truly perilous endeavor.  
But a necessary one to find his brother.

He packed a bag with anything that might make the b and e easier on himself. A few water bottles, some rope, a communicator to the lab as well as some more stealth gear.

Hanzo had found the radio station building not long ago thanks to some clues in the show. So all he had to do was break in and find the records room. 

The plan was to break in after the days broadcast started, that way most of the employees would be distracted. 

None of his coworkers knew his plan, mostly for their own protection. This was something he had to do alone.

He had his radio on a low hum as he packed. It wasn’t long before to music began to play and Hanzo stepped out his door prepared for this challenge.

\----------------  
The future is secure and the past so very insecure. However, the present is numb.

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

Oh, it comes again, it comes again Deadlock Gorge, that day that we assume happens once a year but being that time is immeasurable here in Deadlock, we can assume it might be longer. Yes, it is the Deadlock Community Radio Stations employee reviewal day. That one day where station management goes through all of the employee’s misdeeds, for which we collectively have many and decided if each of us deserve to continue on this mortal plane.  
While usually I would say, past performance is not a predictor of future results, today is an exception for that rule.  
With that in mind let’s get into the news.

The Mystic Frog Records store is having another one of its sales, all items in the store are anywhere from fifty to seventy-five percent off for today only, the owner Lucio Dos Santos stated in a sealed envelope that was sent to my house, that he was afraid he had too much. That he owned far more than he needed and was worried that him having a lot of stock was depriving other people from having rad records on their shelves. When intern Lorenzo went down to the store earlier this morning for more information, the man enthusiastically weaved through the isles loudly claiming, “Our whole lives we collect things, only to leave them behind. A lifetimes worth of meaningless clutter that no longer have meaning or purpose. Kings and queens relatively own the most stuff, countries worth of useless stuff. You are a mess. Are you proud of yourself?” His pace slowed, his eyes gazing over hundreds of unsold records. Once cherished merchandise, now only clutter in his eyes. He stood there for a moment longer before continuing with a softly spoken “I’m not.” Then he disappeared into the backroom.

Whatever the reason records are on sale today so if you want one today is the day to do it.

The Tree Conservation Committee marched through the nature reserves protesting the lack of tree’s in the town of Deadlock Gorge. They paraded around the parks surrounding the trees preventing park goers from approaching them. Local Park Ranger Julian Le Blanc was the only one willing to advance on the group of radicals, questioning what they were attempting to accomplish, the head of the group stepped forward to explain that they were protecting tree’s from vile children from climbing in them or disgusting birds from cluttering them up with nests or worst of all squirrels who do their business in them. She went on to say that trees are endangered species and needed protecting.

Now back to the events at the station. As I stated before it is employee revisions day or in other words the day that management decides whether to keep our contracts or not. Now the station management determines this through, extensive trials and tribulations throughout the years that will come up when least expected. But never to fear darlin listeners, I have never failed a test of physical strength or aptitude. I have yet to be snared in such a trap like my many former coworkers in sales.

Also, whether the employee has mentioned any of the forbidden topics since the last revisions. These however are far more difficult to avoid, since I Joel Morricone am a true journalist whose mission is to deliver you the truth. I doubt that I have spoken of these topics, cause these topics must be forbidden for a reason. They must be absolutely terrible subjects, and I would not expose you all to anything so horrible. For cautions sake I’ll have intern Lorenzo find that list for me just to make sure I haven’t crossed any lines.

Till then let’s hear a word from our sponsors. 

Do you ever feel restless? Have you ever thought stressed over the countless hours of sleep you’ve lost to some unknown being in the night? Do you ever question your existence or lack thereof? Do you feel envy for those who have ventured to that dark world beyond the void, when you have not?

Do you want to rid yourself of all these thoughts and feeling but don’t know how? Worry no more. The answer is simple all you need is yoga and spa.  
Enjoy mud baths that seep into your pores, invading beneath the skin, and into our nerves stealing all those unnecessary feelings. Rejuvenate in the sauna, with its steam that feels like thousands of strangers breathing upon your nude body. At first this sensation will be highly uncomfortable, but you will be leaving feeling lighter than you’ve ever felt before. Experience our tailored yoga sessions where the instructor reprimands in a voice that resembles your father. End your visit with a peaceful meditation where you’ll be hooked up to a tape recorder that will play all of master Zenyatta’s most popular sayings, over and over again.

Want to feel like a new you, stop on into Zen’s Yoga and Spa.

Earlier this morning the city decided to award the Only Stop Gas Station with a plaque for their commitment and dedication to the community. When asked why the city chose the gas station as the most important building in town, multiple citizens raved about how convenient the store was. Even when an eager radio reporter demanded answers he was only met with replies of “dude its open 24/7” or “the cashier is always smiling, and it make the place so much friendlier.” Which those are all valid points.

The award was specifically given to the gas station’s only known employee, Gary. Gary has worked there for as long as anyone can remember. He has never missed a day. He is often found stocking shelves on shaking legs or behind the counter with the man’s mouthing twitching in the largest pinched smile anyone has seen. 

When the mayor and a crowd of reporters gathered in front of the building to hand off the award to him, Gary just stood behind the sliding doors visibly sweating. Mayor Ashe had called out to him telling the gas station attendant that he was being given a trophy and that he needed to come out to retrieve it. The man stood there for a good minute or two before a muffled “I can’t” could be heard from the other side of the glass.

A hush washed over the gathered people, then a murmur, then a gasp as one person exclaimed about how dedicated the man was to his job. The entire crowd began complimenting his devotion. The compliments soon evolved into an applause. As the scene progressed something in Gary seemed to break. The man’s rigid posture shook at his foundation and a single tear escaped his tired crimson eye down his grinning visage.  
Mayor Ashe then entered the store, handing off the plaque and then proceeded to buy a gallon of milk.

The Deadlock Gorge Business Association had meeting today to try to figure out the budget for the new basketball court at the recreation center. They huddled around a table in one of the library’s study room, muttering to each other random numbers, algorithms and one man kept showing off pictures of his dogs. Deadlock has had this basketball court on hold for the last five years due to lack of funding. The leader of their association started the classic strategy of complaining loudly about how it wasn’t their fault that whenever they came upon the money, there was conveniently a company trip of family emergency. 

Okay so I am holding the list of forbidden topics right here. I will commence to read the list just for everyone’s clarification. The list starts with Station Management’s form, angels, the hierarchy of angels, the sales of inedible foods, that person or figure that stands just outside of view but never moves, dogs… The list goes on from there, but these are all mundane everyday topics. I’ve mentioned at least half of these on a weekly basis… which may not be the best for me. But surely someone in the office must be worst than me, surely someone else will be this year’s one mandatory removal. Surely…  
And now while I watch managements door in hope of some miracle, here’s a look at the traffic.

One step after another a woman walks down a well-lit road with many other pedestrians, it was safer to walk down these roads or at least she was told so. Her feet carried her down a straight path. The left street did not have road work right now, but soon will when an overpass collapses in twenty minutes time. Or that’s what was conveyed to her that morning. She avoided the right path for that road passed right by the Playground and it was well known that one should steer clear of the building. The Playground is a dangerous place on a normal basis, but it was even more so today thanks to the mysterious vapor that will leak from its entrance. Or at least that’s what the text she received informed her. 

These moments made up her day. Everyday was like this, one way or another the world attempted to kill her. She was used to it. 

So, she kept on walking down the one road she knew was safe, mind lost in the thoughts of how the world will try to murder her today. She pondered and pondered. Step after step. But at least this road was clear. 

That was the traffic.

Listener, a red light illuminates the glass window on the Station Managements door. Most of the office has been judged and has freely walked away from the bloody beacon in this dead hallway. With each judgement a hiss grows in volume, louder and louder until it has permanently made a home for itself in my mind. It will soon be my turn listeners; I hope something else will invoke managements wrath if it will save me.  
So perhaps for the last time I’ll take you to the weather.

\--------------

The Radio Station was a plain brick building that jutted out of the desert with a slab of sloppy concrete for its foundation. In Hanzo’s opinion it was lackluster and underwhelming. After spending the last few months hear fantastical stories through their airwaves, he had envisioned something with more grandeur. Not an uninspired construction that could likely be found in any American city. However, that actually benefited Hanzo greatly.  
It took a minimum amount of body strength to pry the antic window open enough form him to lift himself through. The Shimada heir pulled himself into the hall that the window had lead into, as he hefted his pack onto his shoulder he took in the dull grey walls and the row of identical doors that continued until it met a conjoining hallway. The building was just as bleak and confining on the inside as it was on the outside. Each door had a plaque under a foggy glass window, labeling the rooms intended purpose. 

Hanzo could feel a slight pull from his dragons in the direction of Genji’s faint scent. He let himself be guided but felt compelled to feel the smooth metal of the plaque brush across his fingertips as he journeyed through the maze of corridors. His eyes glanced over to names the further he ventured. He read doors labeled sales, mail, and breakroom, without feeling compelled to venture through their thresholds. Until he spotted a door further down that read: RECORDING STUDIO. Hanzo longed to travel into that room and maybe find the honey voiced radio host, but he was on a mission. An exceedingly important mission. A mission he must not delay no matter how fanciful the whim may be.

It was long after he passed the recording studio did, he find a room at the end of a dimly lit hallway that was simply labeled: RECORDS ROOM. Even though the elder Shimada had prepared himself before venturing out today, his hand still wobbled as he reached for the handle. Despite his nerves his hand firmly latched on and turned the handle. It made a long squeal of gears that had never been oiled as it creeped open. 

Beyond the doorway was an immense darkness illuminated only by spotty headlights that flickered unreliably. In the darkness stood dozens of shelving units that reach far out of sight. Each shelf contained arbitrary collection of objects that left one dazed and confused on why they resided in a radio station’s records room. There were smooth bloodied stones arranged in an ornate box, a crystal ball that reflected his own eyes back at him but with an unfathomable expression, and what looked like a taxidermized human arm… the contents continued in this half hazard manner as he was pulled along.  
It felt like he traveled these shelves for a lifetime pondering its stock, but in all likelihood, it was no more than a few minutes. He had gazed upon so many strange items he was surprised by the normalcy of a modest audio recorder sitting at eye level. It was a matte red chrome with a small digital screen that only displayed the number clip and the length that was recorded. Rubber buttons lined the side, they were worn down by use but still legible.

Hanzo clicked through the gallery till he found the last recorded message and pressed play. 

“I’M ALIVE!! TELL MY BROTHER IM ALIVE!! WATCH OUT FOR TALON!! PLEASE JESSE, I NEED HIM TO KNOW THE DANGER HE MAY BE IN IF HE FOLLOWED ME! THE TALON OF THE RED GOD SHOULD NOT BE TAKEN LIGHTLY” His brothers voice broke with an audible heartbreak leaving his message quieter than before. “Please… please tell Hanzo… I’m still here.”

Hanzo’s heart shattered with his brothers. Genji sounded so lost and tired, something Hanzo once thought impossible. His body bent over to device in his grip as if it were his missing sibling and for the first time since the elder was left alone, he let his tears overwhelm him in a silent sob. In the gloom of that room he mourned for as long as he allowed, and his dragons echoed his sorrow.  
But he could not dwell in this place.

Hollowly he picked himself off his knees, which he failed to realize he had fallen to, and with the help of his spirits found the window he entered from. While the walk to the records room was filled with intrigue and mystery, the walk from the room was empty. Later if asked about the event Hanzo would not be able to recall the events that played out as he approached the window. He would not be able to tell you about the thunderous roars that protruded to building. His mind would not recall the blood curdling scream that echoed the halls. He would not remember turning his portable radio back on or the weather section ending.

Hanzo will remember turning over the audio recorder and reading in black sharpie:

PROPERTY OF JESSE J. MCCREE  
\------------------

Welcome back listener, a lot has happened since I last left you. So, there I was waiting for my impending doom, I was slowly approaching the door o managements office when the hissing dies down. It was silent as if listening for something, I felt like they were waiting for something on my end for me to fumble, but then I heard it. Footsteps.

Now only me and a few interns were still in the building, and even then, we were all still waiting to be judged so who those footsteps belonged was a mystery to me. Station management’s roars crescendo and the red glow had become so bright it was blinding. Thrashing could be heard in the next second. I rolled out of the way in the same moment the door flew open. Station management latched on to the first person in front of the door in their rage, a long oozing tentacle wrapping around intern Lorenzo’s body. Squeezing a scream from his esophagus that will forever haunt me.  
Intern Lorenzo has yet to emerge from the office several hours later. So, to the friends and family of intern Lorenzo Lavay, we are terribly sorry for your loss. He was a kind, brave intern.

Reviewal days are nerve-racking but, in the end, they leave a sense of accomplishment. Like everyday we tough it out and we are still standing. So for those too who are still standing despite what todays thrown at you, I’m proud of you.

Stay tuned for a recording of a thunderstorm that sounds like children crying.

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge. Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's proverb is:  
> To be judged or not be judged, is not the question. It will happen regardless.  
> Today's weather was "Align" by Aby Wolf


	11. The Carwash

The revelation of his brother’s fate was a relief but held devastating realizations to befall him. Hanzo had been oblivious to the fact that a recording of Genji had been hidden in town for little over a month. 

Over a month of his search wasted.

Hanzo had no idea the context of the message, nor did he have a location on which it occurred. The unknown variables in this investigation were maddening. Though it did not have to be.

There was one person who would be able to answer his questions. And conveniently he had been given the number to that person when he first arrived in town. One Jesse J. McCree aka Joel Morricone.

What concerned Hanzo was McCree relation to this case, was he a suspect or perhaps simply a victim of circumstance? It did not help McCree's image that the tape was hidden within the depths of his workplace. Though his perceived guilt was cleared through the message Genji had left. It was a contradiction. A contradiction of both case and character, and the only one who could clear McCree's name was McCree himself.

The phone in his hand dialed, but as the music from the radio echoed Hanzo knew he would be sent to voicemail. The final ring confirmed it.

“McCree, this is Hanzo. We need to talk…”  
\------------

Cleanliness is not next to godliness. Pain in sacrifice is next to godliness. Cleanliness is next to stagnation.

Welcome to Deadlock Gorge.

Listeners, spring is drawing to a close. The desert dust cakes and coats our homes, our cars, our lives. The winter has piled its remains on the doorstep of spring and expects it to be gone by May. Then spring too will die.

But before spring comes to an end, have you done your spring cleaning? 

For the majority of the town I know that we scramble in March to get the largest tasks done, to pack away all the decorations from the winter rituals back into boxes, to remodel or fix the parts of our dwellings that we let slide in those cold months, or to finally shred the hundreds of letters Meade Mossman keeps sending us even though we’ve told him to stop already. 

In April we do the tasks that we put aside for later thinking we would have time in March but never did. The organization of our life’s minor arrangements. The scrubbing of blood off our doorways, so to say. We clean so vigorously that we fool ourselves into believing that there is no more dirt in our lives, but it will persist. No matter how hard we wipe it away it will be carried with us into summer, to autumn, throughout winter and back into spring again. We will carry this stain forever.

But there is one thing you can clean in May. Your car, Deadlock, you have forgotten all about your car. It stands in your driveway or within your garage as a beacon of your grime. 

Do not fear Deadlock your filth does not have to be on display any longer because Deadlock has a new Carwash. But before we discuss that lets take a look at the community calendar.

This Tuesday will be the Deadlock West Banks Annual Karaoke money drive. All of your favorite tellers will be packing their car’s full of the banks savings, blasting their radios, and driving all that cash around town real slow. Watch as they show off all the money that the bank has at all times and be envious of it. Think about how safe your life savings is as its loaded into a vehicle and driven out of town…

Wednesday you will have a vague feeling that its Wednesday but by the time you fully grasp it, it will be Thursday.

On Thursday there will be a photograph in your home that you did not realize existed before that moment. You will gaze into the picture and flip it over in confusion, trying to figure out when it was taken but will find no clue. The longer you stare at the scene the more wrong it feels. Did this event really happen? Why couldn’t you remember it if it did? Was that really you in the frame. As time goes on, you’ll question it more. The figure looked close enough to you. It had the same short choppy hair as you do. The abnormally brutish shoulders on its otherwise lanky body is the same as yours, but the face… oh, there was something bone chillingly wrong about this thing’s visage. The deep wrinkles that resemble scars more so then folds of flesh. That glint in the ‘not you’s eyes. It was a dangerous, hungry expression that spoke more to instinct then any moment you can remember. You will be disgusted that even for a second you believed this was you, no your eyes will deceive you. This, whatever this photograph may be of was wrong, so very wrong.

Friday will be the date for the city-wide mandatory party. All citizens will gather in the streets and will be forced to have a good time. There will be a visitor in town that day and city council warns that if the visitor doesn’t deem we are enjoying ourselves, terrible things will happen Deadlock Gorge, terrible things. So, put on your designated party hats, stretch your lips wide and move your limbs to earsplitting sounds of corrupted tapes of animal calls, do it or else.

The bowling season will start on Saturday, we all are looking forwards to our favorite teams meeting at the pins. Notable favorites this year are the Birds of Prey, their rising star the Raven is hoping to continue with his high score streak. Other memorable teams include the Bones of Atlas, Hobknockers and my personal favorite team Blackwatch. Go to the alley this Saturday to support your favorite teams.

Sunday there will be a flower growing in the park, all who pass it will hear the words they have always longed to hear. Words of affirmation, words of gratitude, words of love. Many will stop and shower the flora with love and appreciation that at least this plant understands them and their struggles. Some will be so moved that they will leave gifts and treasures that a flower could never actually possess in any meaningful way, but it’s the thought that counts. But one person will hear what their heart truly longs for, and it won’t be enough. They will reach out their hand in hopes of drawing more from the plant and rip it from the soil. They will bring it home and put the flower in water. The flora will be beautiful, but it will also be silent. As the days go on and the plant slowly withers, they will wonder if they ever actually heard the plant speak or was it all in their head to begin with. But then on the last day before the flower dries out and dies, they will hear the words that will be their ruin. The words they never wished to have spoken to them.

Monday the Museum of Forbidden Science will be having a day long lecture on [REDACTED]. There will be an interactive segment where participants will make [REDACTED] with only pipe cleaner, duct tape, military grade uranium and nail clippers. These [REDACTED] will surely liven up your next game night and cut cost on your bills.

This has been the community calendar.

Back to the main story today, early this morning residents discovered a new building that seems to have appeared overnight. This very moment standing outside the Only Stop Gas Station there is a carwash. When questioned about the store’s new addition lone worker Gary nervously stumbled to the window gazing out of its transparent surface mumbling incoherently. When asked further about the carwash Gary’s head slowly turned at an unnatural angle, after a brief expression of what I can only describe as fear then his facial features stretched wide into an unsettling smile. He then replied, “all your needs will be provided for, forever.” His body then began to shake, his limbs curled in on himself, before his spine seemed to forcibly straighten and he headed behind the counter.

There’s something off about the new carwash, and I’m not saying that because Gary won that award a few weeks back and I didn’t, no siree. I’m just saying if he was SO great, he would’ve advertised it more. I don’t know. I’m gonna keep an eye on it and update you when there’s more news.

The Playful Paws Animal Shelter is happy to announce the birth of a brand-new litter of kittens ready for adoption! All six of the kittens are healthy with fully functioning poison darts and strong tendrils. If you are interested in starting the adoption process, follow shelter volunteer Brigette down the long cage riddled hallway avoiding searching gaze of the creatures those depths hold. As she leads you down to a dimly lit room, question why you decided this was a good idea in the first place… did your child beg for this kitten and you in your weakened state agreed? Where you just that desperate for company? What was the reason. If you do venture down to that room Brigette will insist that only the BEST owners will do. And you are sure you’re not the best.

Brave citizens have begun to use the carwash. A line curls around the gas station into the street waiting for their turn to be cleansed. Slowly each vehicle inches towards the gates like cows to a slaughter. Even though the overall response for the building has been mostly positive, concerned members of the community approached Mayor Ashe. When contacted about the new building her face twisted in confusion. She began muttering to herself things like ‘I did not authorize this’ and ‘why wasn’t I informed?’ before an eager city council feverously handed her flash cards to read from. She cleared her voice after a quick grumble and what she read is this:

“It has risen once more, Deadlock Gorge. From the underground from whence it grew, it relishes the company and welcomes you inside. It’ll clean and dry what enters so wash your cars. Reap the benefits.”

The mayor then continued to repeat ‘reap the benefits’ for an entire minute before hissing at the swarm of reporters then scampering back into the city hall.

A group of bird fanatics demanded entry into the bird sanctuary, these people were immensely tall in figure, with arms sprouting out from their sides and backs. Extensive wings erected from their shoulder blades and a pair along their heads. Eyes shown out of their skulls in multiple pairs and gleamed like a crown of obsidian. Their voices were a drawling crone as they asked very politely to see the birds. A few in the back of the crowd confusedly murmured that they thought they were going to free the birds not see them. To which another figure harshly shooshed the first. Some muttered comments on how great birds were and how they should lock up snakes instead. The figure desperately attempting to gain access sweated fiercely but was ignored completely by the staff. The group waited two hours in vain before dispersing. Local doctor Angela Ziegler was also denied entry due to suspicion of being an angel.

Let’s have a look at the traffic.

There has only ever been one path for you to take, up. You have longed to reach the surface for a lifetime so you must climb your way upward. The journey is ever changing as you struggle to find your way, there is no ease in the momentum motion of your body reaching for the sky. A sky in which you have never set sights upon. There is only strife in your memories but you long for this still. You have endured too much pain not to reach your destination, all would be for not if you slipped once more finding yourself back at the beginning of your trek. 

It takes an eternity, but you can feel the progress. In the ache of your muscles. In the stiffness of your talons. In the labored breathing through the rows of jagged teeth.

but then you feel it, the emptiness of open air. Glasslike eyes open to a world of stars and void for the first time. Surrounded by strange structures you can feel some thing you only knew the concept of before, wind. Gentle and pleasant against your caked skin, it caresses you. In the moonlight you rest half buried, half risen.

Too soon does the red gleam of the sun looms over the horizon, a threat of dawn to the night. It is then that you feel it the need for thirst in the newly discovered heat, the movement of the awakening world, the faint desperate clawing of need. You’re dying.

This has been traffic.

My suspicion of the carwash has led me into the long winding line of the carwash. I sit in my truck watching as I slowly inch forward and as one car at a time disappears in front of me. Each time the makeshift door to the building creaks open and I get closed each time, I catch more details. I witness the complete darkness of the interior first. then the groan of movement reaches my ears. The slicked tubes that spasm with labored hot air that escapes the entry briefly before the car disappears inside. As I approach the entrance for my turn, I realize, that it’s time I take you to the weather.  
\----------------

The hours that followed that text message dragged on slowly. He waited patiently through his tea, Hanzo sat in irritation as he attempted to decode, he sat through lunch in trepidation, but no reply had been received.

It was expected, he knew that it was unlikely that the man would drop everything to message him. But he had hoped. The only thing he could do was wait for McCree to reach out to him. That and make sure his place looked presentable. There was no use worrying if he would or wouldn’t message him. So, after an hour of waiting he set down his phone and went about his day.

Little did he know that long before the weathers music swelled and before it died, his phone blinked to life. A message waited for him from one Jesse J McCree reading:

“I’ll be there, tell me when a’ where darlin”

\-----------

Listeners, as those doors opened up to allow my truck admittance, I saw the great expanse of a mouth opening with a painful howl, thousands of teeth lined its jaw. Its hot breath could be felt through my windshield and I stalled. Frozen in place by this beast masquerading as a common commodity. With each second of delaying the massive mouth of the creature heaved and huffed. It panted in toiled effort, hacking up desperate breaths. And then the structure of the being collapsed upon itself. It disappeared in a withering mass into the earth and the walls of the carwash crumbled after it. 

I sat in my truck dazed from the experience. I am still in shock but also in relief. I knew there was something wrong with that carwash! Take that Gary who’s the best now?

Anyway, that’s all for our broadcast, stay tuned for live audio of people failing to pitch an idea over and over again.

Goodnight Deadlock Gorge. Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's proverb:  
> Can you feel it? The billions of microbes crawling on your skin? that's you.  
> Today's weather was "Things Still Left to Say" by Mal Blum.

**Author's Note:**

> Today's proverb is if you don't make it break, break it over and over again. Break it till it can no longer repair itself.  
> Today's weather section was brought to you by Things still left to say by Mal Blum.


End file.
